


花吐「 HANAHAKI」(ENG)

by Lilith von Beilschmidt (LilithK)



Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Drama, F/M, Hanahaki Disease, Major Illness, Multi, References to Illness, Unrequited Love, Weddings, hanahaki
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-06-27 13:08:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 22,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19791529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilithK/pseuds/Lilith%20von%20Beilschmidt
Summary: How far would you go to keep your biggest secret safe? What would you do if you fell madly in love with someone who could not love you back? What would you be willing to sacrifice in order to keep your friendship with the most important person in your life? Leopold Butters Stotch tells you a story that takes place the weekend of Stan and Wendy's wedding, and directly involves his best friend, Kenny.A fanfiction about South Park's characters based on the idea/concept of Hanahaki, property of Naoko Matsuda and her work Hanahaki no Otome.Hanahaki: A fictional disease in which the inflicted person vomits and coughs flower petals due to unrequited love.[FIC TRANSLATED FROM SPANISH TO ENGLISH]





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [花吐「 HANAHAKI」](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15956543) by [LilithK](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilithK/pseuds/LilithK). 



Hanahaki: A fictional disease in which the inflicted person vomits and coughs flower petals due to an unrequited love.

Everybody knew about Stan Marsh and Wendy Testaburger’s love story. They had known each other since they were kids, and Stan knew from the very first moment that he saw Wendy that he was in love with her. However, the first time he found the courage to speak to her about his feelings, he ended up vomiting right at her feet.

Everyone clearly witnessed how, amidst all the bile, an immense amount of red petals accumulated. 

_Hanahaki_ , Stan was told by the doctor while checking his state. He was too young to understand the disease in its totality, but he was able to conclude that those petals that had sometimes escaped from his mouth when coughing had to do with Wendy.

And that wouldn’t be the last time that strange event would happen to him. Anyone who knows enough about Stan knows that his odd and tortuous relationship with her had led him to have many episodes of paroxysmal coughing; some of them so violent that they put him in a critical state, up to the point of even fearing for his life. 

However things were back then, today was the day we all reunited for something we clearly knew was bound to happen, sooner or later: his longed awaited wedding.

Finally. 

The days of suffering from his unrequited love were over and his disease, as difficult to understand as it was to eradicate, now would just be part of one of those pretty love stories that he could tell to his children when they asked how he met their mother. 

I let out a deep sigh from the very bottom of my lungs and opened my eyes. I timidly knocked on the door with my knuckles; but just as I thought, they couldn’t hear with all the fuss they had going on, so I cautiously opened the door and I peeked in through the slit.

“Hey! Hi everybody!”

“For Goodness sake, you piece of mule ass, can you stop fucking up your necktie already!?”

“Jesus Christ, Kyle, leave me alone, you pain in the butt!”

“I already told you that you shouldn’t have let the Jew be in charge of everything, he lets power go too easily to his red head.” 

“Shut your dirty mouth, you disgusting fatso. Stan!”

Yes, everything was just as I remembered from my childhood and adolescence… For the good or the bad. Although I had to leave town to pursue a career, the feeling that everything had stayed the same here put me at ease.

Obviously, I could not consider the rude manners they had for addressing each other as something good, not even now. 

“Hey, guys, ehm,” I entered the room, thinking that if didn’t do it, they would _never_ notice me there, “… It’s me, Butters!”

The three turned around at the same time, each one doing their own thing: Stan seemed to be battling with a badly done tie knot, too tight around his neck; Kyle, was holding a couple neckties in different shades of red and seemed to be a hair’s breadth away from a nervous breakdown; Eric, as expected, was spread-eagled in his seat, gobbling up a bag of chips, probably doing little more than riling Kyle up even further with his biting remarks. 

“Uhhhhhh look who came! Our dearest and most official errand boy!” Eric said, mockingly. I replied with a short “Yeah, hello to you too, Eric…” I was already more than just accustomed to his… _persona_.

“You’re late!” Kyle basically screamed, raising his hands in the air, “Like everyone else!”

“God damn it, Kyle, calm the fuck down already,” Stan grunted before approaching me. Now that he was closer, I could see the deep and darker-than-dark circles under his eyes. Poor thing. “Help me to untie this knot, come on.” 

“I’m really sorry, I mean it. I had plenty of problems with the bus,” I excused myself as I tried to untangle the _monstrosity_ that Stan somehow managed to create with his tie, “But now I am fully available for whatever you may need me for, truly.”

“Then bring me some nachos, extra spicy,” said Eric immediately, snapping his fingers “And make it quick!”

“I already told you to shut the fuck up, you fat piece of shit!”

“I won’t shut up just because a filthy Jew orders me to!” He squealed, then looked to his side, thinking, his fingers holding his chin, “Well, perhaps, if you bring me some nachos…”

“I would not even bring you water on your deathbed, Cartman,” Kyle grunted, his voice drenched in as much disdain and disgust as it could be.

This time Stan was the one that let out a really deep sigh. I said nothing, partly because I was using like seventy-five percent of my cerebral capacity to be able to undo that hellish knot, partly because I believed that what Stan needed the least was another discussion. Biting my lip softly, I started to pull the fabric out until I found the troublesome part and I managed to, at least, loosen it slightly. Stan breathed a sigh of relief, and took it off, and would have thrown it away had I not been still holding it in my hand.

“Go straight to Hell, fucking necktie.” He grunted before proceeding to undo his shirt from the neck, “Thanks, Butters.”

“No biggie, Stan,” I said with a reassuring smile, shaking my head. 

“Come on, Kyle! It was a joke! You can’t take a simple, itty-bitty joke!” As expected, Eric was still doing his thing.

“Cartman, just leave me alone.” He turned his back to the chair, as if he was completely avoiding Cartman’s existence and came over to me. “Now, Butters, can you please help me make that dimwit of a fiancé understand that he has to do the wardrobe fitting?”

“Jesus fuck, Kyle, when will you understand that I will only be wearing a suit and a tie! I’m not the one that’s gonna be wearing the damn dress, just get it already!”

“And what if the damn necktie you end up using doesn’t suit you, considering that is one of the key parts of your outfit, huh? What if that ruins the wedding? You wouldn’t care about that?”

“If the wedding gets ruined by the necktie that I wear, then let me tell you that it was doomed to fail from the very beginning!”

“He’s right about that.” I whispered. The death glare I was given by Kyle put me off from saying anything else.

“I swear, you’re all…” He hissed and left the sentence unfinished, making an angry gesture with his hands.

“Surely not Jews.” Eric muttered, smiling slyly.

“Cartman, spare us from the shitty jokes that only you find remotely funny.” Stan told him off.

“Eh, well, now that I think about it,” I stammered while playing nervously with the tie knot, “I believe Kyle may be right.” The aforementioned one turned around suddenly and pointed at me with eyes wide open, looking back at Stan “I mean, if by any chance something in the suit does not work well, the very day of the wedding would be for sure too late to have anything fixed, so…”

“And why would something in the suit not work well if I tried it on at the store? I had to pay big bucks for it, you know. I sincerely expect it not to fuck me up.”

“Well, maybe you put on some weight,” said Eric among the sound of potato chips being devoured without mercy. “It’s a possibility.”

“Think of it as if maybe in the trip here a seam of the suit may have come undone, or maybe there’s a button gone missing…” I added quickly, thinking about some situations I had seen at weddings from TV series or films. “You haven’t paid enough to guarantee that it won’t have imperfections at the moment of truth, don’t you think?” 

“Or perhaps under natural light the color of your shirt and your necktie don’t match.” The redhead added, disdainfully.

“Do I look as if I care whether they match or not?” Stan pointed at himself. Definitively, his face spoke for him.

“Well, you do not, I agree. But what if Wendy does care?” Stan raised his eyebrow and I shrugged “You know how girls are…”

“And also how Kyle’s sandy vagina is!”

.”.. I don’t think you want Wendy to remember your wedding as ‘the day where seeing Stan’s necktie made me reconsider the _“Yes, I do”’_ or something like that,” I kept on saying, not paying attention to Eric, like the other two did.

“So, you all think that Wendy can _still_ say she doesn’t want this?” Stan grumbled “That’s what all this shit about my clothing is about, because if not she will leave me standing at the altar?”

“No, no, no, no!” I corrected myself as fast as I could the moment I realized how badly I screwed up “No, it’s not that, it’s just that… Well…”

“Stan, look. Wendy has had all the opportunities in the world and more to you dump you and she hasn’t done it, so she is not going it to do now that you are finally about to get married.” Kyle settled the issue, pointing at him with his finger “But she can spend the rest of her life showing the wedding album to your guests and laughing at you, ‘cause you dressed disastrously. So, move your ass back here and let me see if the maroon necktie goes well with the suit. And this time _I_ will do the knot.”

“Look, you are not going to get any closer to my neck until you calm the fuck down, okay?” The black-haired boy receded a little, afraid of reviving the experience of losing his breath because his friend made the knot too tight.

“Well then let Butters do it! Here, take the maroon one and give me back the burgundy one.” Kyle exchanged the necktie in my hand for the one he had in his right.

Still a bit hesitant, Stan lifted his jaw up and let me pass the necktie around his neck. It’s not like I was an expert on tie tying, so I did a simple knot (being extremely careful not to bother him) and I stepped aside so that Kyle could judge.

“Good. Now what do you think, you nagger? Huh?”

“Looks like shit!” Eric shouted, although he couldn’t have been able to see it from where he was sitting; so actually, it was a bit weird that he gave his opinion.

“Hm, I don’t know… Perhaps too big… and maroon does not go well with that shade of blue… and it definitely asks for a Windsor knot…”

“God, this is never-ending…” A defeated Stan grumbled, as he undid the knot of his tie. I gently patted his shoulder.

“Less complaining and more trying on the next one.” Kyle gave me another tie and took the one that Stan was going to drop to the ground with an unfriendly face. 

“But they are identical, Kyle. Identical. The fucking same.”

“Oh no, they aren’t. They are styles that which differ in length and width and they are four completely different colors, so it is absolutely necessary to try all of them on because _no,_ they are not equal.” 

“Look, the fact that each one of them is different, I can get. But I am almost completely sure that you are making up those colors just to screw me over. Like,” Stan took the four neckties in his two hands and squinted his eyes just to open them again right after. “I dare you to look me in the eyes and tell me that they are four different colors. Come on, I double dare you.” 

“Fine, because _they are_. You see, this one is the maroon one, the one before was burgundy, this one here is dark red and the one that I gave Butters has an orange undertone.”

“Orange sub-tone my ass, Kyle.”

“I’ve heard countless stories about the mystical powers of being able to see new colors that were granted to those who born with a vagina, but never had I the luck to verify it with my very own eyes…” Narrated Eric solemnly from behind us. 

I let a cackle out thanks to that random, yet -let’s admit it- well executed remark. Kyle just clicked his tongue, while Stan rolled his eyes.

“Look, really, whether you believe it or not _they are_ different colors. So, let’s get this necktie thing over with as soon as possible so that we can play _Call of Duty_ , because I have a terrible urge to kill somebody.” Stan then turned to me. “And I think we all agreed on giving Cartman the silent treatment, Butters.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to, it caught me off guard…”

“Hey, Kyle, whether you like or not I am still here!” 

“Well, then do something already, you fat piece of shit, because since you arrived the only thing you have done is get the floor dirty with bits of your disgusting chips!”

“Fine, fine, I’ll do something!” He raised both hands and got up straightaway, the chip bag barely a wrinkled ball now “I’ll start plugging in the _Play Station_ , poor me…”

“If you dare touch that console with your dirty, greasy hands I am going to shove the controller up your ass, Cartman.” Kyle warned him, pointing at him with an accusing finger and a glare that could kill.

“Yeah, you skanky pig, go wash your hands!” Added Stan, as he let me put the next tie on him.

“Yeah, yeah! I was just about to do that!” It was clear that the idea of washing his hands had not even remotely crossed his mind before. Eric was not good at telling lies. On his way to the bathroom located in the corridor, we heard him sigh dramatically. “Would you believe it! Ever since he married me, he’s stopped being the thoughtful boy who would surprise with flowers at the door… Now all he does is grumble and complain and order me around. Eric do this, Eric do that! If you keep on like this you are going to lose me, Kyle. You are going to lose me!”

“Wish I was so lucky…” He answered in a grunt.

“Come on, admit at least that, without Eric, there would be way less fun,” I tried to relax the atmosphere with a little smile.

“Fun?” They said in unison, their eyes wide open. 

Yeah, perhaps that was not the best word choice…

“I mean, ehm, I know that Eric is not…. Especially…”

“Don’t try to excuse him, Butters, it’s useless.”

“Right. Man, you left and it shows, cause you completely forgot what it’s like to deal with him day after day.”

“Ma-maybe you are right, ye-yes…” I stuttered in the stupidest way saying that, adding the final touches to the tie knot. Geez, I’ve barely arrived and I have already screwed things up like four times. It had to be you, Butters! Who else?

“Take that thing off him, it looks horrible,” Kyle groaned, turning around. “Really, this is the first and last time I let Kenny choose something.”

“Ye-yes, sure, right now…” I almost topped that by adding “Sir.”

As I undid what I had done with shaky hands, we fell silent. A heavy and dreadful silence much in contrast to the thoughts suddenly boiling in my head. God, how can I be this idiotic? I gulped as I pulled the necktie off and grabbed the last one we had to try on. 

Come on, Butters, breaking the ice is something perfectly normal, you can do it.

“And, uhm, well…” Setting off with a bad start, yeah. “Speaking of Kenny, where is he?”

“Like hell I know, I sent him out a while ago to do something and he hasn’t come back yet.” Stan replied with indifference.

“Judging by how long it’s taking him to do it, I’m starting to think that he died on his way back to the room or something.” Kyle joked. The lump in my stomach was not funny at all, though.

“Then surely he will arrive any time now and he will lend a hand with this.” I tried to concentrate on doing the one that, with some luck, would be the last tie knot. 

When I was just about to make the first turn, the door slammed opened and I let the tie go to turn around and see who had arrived, excited.

“Ha, look now! Clean as a whistle!” Yelled Eric, his hands up. “Is this clean enough for Thy Supreme Majesties?”

“With you there is never a clean enough.” Replied Kyle, arms crossed. “Now start plugging in the _Play Station_ already.”

“Yeah, yeah, I was about to…” He approached the red-haired boy and moved his hands up to Kyle’s face. “But before that, check how good my hands smell now, Kyle.”

“Ah, fuck, Cartman!” Kyle pushed Cartman’s hands away with his own as he distanced himself to avoid any closer contact. “Don’t touch me!”

“But they smell like soap! The expensive kind! This is what Token’s ass must smell like!”

“I don’t give a crap, just go away!” Kyle screamed, smacking every which way. “Go away!”

“Fiiine fiiiiiine, you don’t have to hurt me.” Pretending to be hurt, Eric finally moved away from Kyle and went to the corner of the room, where the things yet to be unpacked were piled up, and began to start rummaging in search of the device. _“Plaaaaaay_ , show your face so I can see yaaaa~…”

Shaking my head, I once again took both ends of the necktie and resumed my task of tying it while Stan and Kyle gave instructions to Eric (somewhat vague, to be honest) so he could find the console. When I finished, I fixed it nervously and pressed my lips together, looking at a very specific place yet, at the same time, at nothing at all. It was strange. I felt something in my stomach that I could only describe as a vacuum. I was the picture-perfect definition of idiot for brooding this much over something like that, but I couldn’t avoid it, either. I breathed in deeply a couple of times with my eyes closed and tightened the knot a little bit more.

“It’s done, Stan.” The last necktie. “How do you like it?”

“Ah, yeah, sure Butters.” He looked back at me and then at his necktie. “I don’t know… The same? I can’t tell them apart, you know. So, if Mr. Able-To-Tell-Four-Shades-Of-Red-Apart has five seconds to spare to give us his opinion…”

“Cartman, for fuck’s sake, _your_ fucking right not _mine.”_ Kyle was telling the aforementioned when Stan’s glare caught his attention. “Hm, definitely I think that’s the one that fits him the best. Don’t you think so too, Butters?”

“Yeah, yeah, I guess so.” I mumbled, distractedly. 

“Well, that doesn’t sound like you are convinced at all.”

“No, no. I am, really, it’s just that…”

“We have to compare again between this and first one.” Kyle finished the sentence for me with something that I clearly _didn’t_ mean. “Come on, take it off and put this one on again.”

“Say what? This is a joke, right?”

“Less complaining and more doing as I say, Stan.” Kyle moved the necktie from side to side. “Come on, quickly, we don’t have all day.”

“No, no, no, no, no. No!” Stan repeatedly shook his head, putting his hands up in a cross shape with energy. “I refuse! This is as much as I can take. No more neckties or else I’ll explode!”

“Kyle, it’s normal, I think that’s enough…”

“God, it is just one. _One_ insignificant necktie more! I am not asking for much, Stan!”

“You don’t get it Kyle. I am done with this crap. Fucking done with this crap!”

“Aha, there you are, you motherfucker!” And suddenly, we heard Eric, who was pulling the black console out with maybe _too much_ force. “Come here!”

And, just as I expected, somehow, his voice was followed immediately by the characteristic sound of something breaking. I closed my eyes and let out a long sigh before I subtly covered my ears so not to lose my hearing with the scream that was about to come from Kyle’s mouth.

“CARTMAN, WHAT THE FU…?!”

Yes, that one.

“God damn it, Cartman, you broke my fucking family photo!!”

“It’s not my fucking fault, okay?! This shit got caught on the cables!”

“Of course it’s your fault, you total inept shitbag! Accept that at least!”

“I said no! It’s the cable’s fault! And Stan’s, because he put it there!”

“That’s all we needed, you blaming it on me!” Stan let out a scream of rage, pulling his hair “Seriously, I’m so fucking done with all of you!”

“Hey! Don’t you dare put me in the same boat as Cartman!”

“You are the first!”

“Guys, come on, calm down a bit, you are not going to solve anything like this…” I tried to mediate as best as I could.

“There is nothing to solve unless I throw myself from that window and put an end to everything!”

“Don’t say that, Stan!” I shook my head vehemently and then tried to calm him down by rubbing my hands against his arms, while he pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “Come on, later I will go and buy a new photo frame, it will look as if nothing happened…”

“Ah, sure, Butters protecting Cartman’s ass, so what else is new!?”

“I-I am not protecting him…” I turned myself to face Kyle, nervously.

“Yeah, he is not protecting me because there is nothing to protect!”

“He broke it, he pays for it. It’s as simple as that. But no, you have to be the one paying for it!”

“I thought it was best to just give a solution…”

“Cartman will never stop being an asshole if we are the ones continuously sorting out all the shit he does!”

“Hey! I am still here, God damn it!”

“For my eternal misfortune!”

“Kyle, stop it, you are going way too far.”

“And there he goes again! God, do you ever learn?”

“I am not doing it for Eric, I’m doing it for Stan!”

“So not even you would stand up for me, Butters? And I thought we were friends!”

“We are! We all are! But today we sh-!”

“I am not _his_ friend!”

“It’s not like _I_ would want to be friends with a dirty, accusing Jew!”

Obviously, those two started to quarrel and although I tried at all costs to stop the fighting, thinking we were ruining the day for Stan, Kyle was too bent on being right (as usual) and Eric was simply unable to see past himself (as usual). I was in between the two and Stan sat on the bed, both hands on his forehead, hitting himself with his knuckles, when a sound made us four turn our heads simultaneously.

“And here comes the hero to save the day with provisions! Woo-hoooo!!”

I perfectly felt how my heart skipped a beat, stopped dead in its tracks and then beat once again, completely out of control. He was there. After these two long, long years, he was there, finally _there,_ just as skinny and lanky as remembered him to be, carrying a bottle in one hand and a smile that barely fit on his face, so covered with freckles and spots, so perfectly imperfect, ever so framed by that leonine strawberry-blonde mane, as untamed as he himself and his laughter was, the same laughter that was escaping from his irregular teeth like a bird from its cage.

The image started to blur, and I felt something wet running down my cheek. I was feeling so happy I felt I was about to explode. Just by seeing him. How can I be so damn idiotic? I covered my mouth with my hand to avoid having my anxious breathing heard.

Where had I left my inhaler? 

“Kenny! You finally dare to make an appea- Oh, fuck yes” Stan abruptly pushed aside whoever was in his way and took the bottle of J&B from the hands of the blonde one and chugged it, all out. When he finally put it down it he let out a tremendous sigh.

“So, can I assume that helped?”

“You!” Stan pointed him out with a finger. “You _do_ understand what I need. _You,_ you are the best one, Kenny. Keep on like this and you will be the best man instead of this handful of useless losers.”

And as Kyle complained, Kenny began to celebrate his small victory with a stupid bopping that I found so unbelievably adorable that I let out a little cackle, drowned in a small cough. His blue eyes rose quickly and crossed paths with mine and… 

God. 

How can I explain how it felt seeing him widen his already big smile _for me_ , how can I explain what it was to see that special spark in his eyes _because of me_ , how can I explain the tone of voice he used to pronounce _my name_ , how can I explain what was forming _inside me_ when I saw him cross the room in the blink of an eye to hold me close, so strongly that I thought he was going to break me (and I wished he did), and lifted me from the ground to spin me round as he kept on laughing, just so happy _to see me_. 

How can I explain how crazy my heart beat, how hard it was for me to breathe, how much my cheeks were hurting from smiling, how tight I hugged him against me, how I felt when I pronounced his name.

How to explain Kenny McCormick and how he made me feel without saying _that cruel and beautiful word_.

“Butters, goddammit!” I must find my inhaler. “You are here!”

“Finally!” I said, with a nervous smile and a happy voice.

“Finally,” he repeated, looking me straight in the eyes, as if it were nothing. “Ahhhh, God, I have missed you so much…” 

“Not as much as I missed you.” I affirmed, in a soft murmur that by any means could show the absolute truth behind those words. “I-I am so glad to see you’re doing well, Kenny.”

“You told me that I had to take care of myself and so I did.” he tilted his head. His words gave off a sense of pride and self-satisfaction that couldn’t be legal, it was simply too adorable. “I did it well, didn’t I?”

“Too well” I whispered as I cupped his jaw with my hand, fondly brushing against the locks of hair under his ears. “If you keep on like this you won’t need me anymore.”

“I will always need you, Leopold.” He said, his voice earnest, his smile cheeky, his gaze tender. “I am a total disaster without you.”

I did not reply to him, I couldn’t. I only smiled a little more, in spite of the pain, and I merely looked at him. 

Just for a while, just a little more…

“Hey, if you are going to start all that lovey-dovey homo shit you go to your fucking room, this is not a gay porno.”

I lowered my gaze and my hands quickly, as Kenny clicked his tongue, annoyed.

“Fuck you, Cartman, seriously. We were not being lovey-dovey here.”

“ _We were net beeing levey-devey here._ ” he mimicked him, sarcastically. “You almost buried your tongue 3 feet deep into his mouth, for fuck’s sake.” 

“God, no, I wasn’t going to bury my tongue in my best friend’s mouth, why would I do that?”

I clenched my fists and put them against my chest, tightening my lips.

“Kenny, just leave it…” I muttered so low I don’t even know if he could have even heard.

”Well, don’t ask me, I am not the one that goes around exchanging glances and holding hands with Kyle.”

“What? What the hell are you mentioning me for?”

“Oh, you are digging your own tomb, Cartman…”

“C’mere Kyle, I also want us to have a passionate re _encounter.”_

“Do not dare to touch me! AGH! CARTMAN! NO! GET OUT!”

“Come on Kyle, my very best of friends, give me a kiss you scoundrel!” 

“Stan! STAN HELP ME, STAN!”

“Seriously, Cartman, this is not funny, we are not gay” I saw Kenny turn around to me “Hey, Butters, don’t mind him; you already know how he is, he just likes to fuck around.” 

I simply shook my head and shrugged. Oddly enough, Eric hadn’t been the one who said something so hurtful for once. 

“Don’t worry about it, it was my fault.” I put a hand over the nape of my neck and sighed before trying to compose a smile. However, I closed my eyes because I was too much of a coward to look into his now. “I went a bit too far with the confidence, that’s it.” 

“But…”

“He’s right” I admitted, rubbing my hands against my arms and averting my eyes as soon as I could. “It came off as _a little gay_.” 

“No! Come on, that’s not true. Right?”

“Nah, Butters is right. You looked like a couple” Stan replied first, giving the first blow.

“You already know how much I hate agreeing with Cartman, but it was almost repulsive.” Kyle followed with the second stab.

“Oh, dudes, come on!” 

“Four to one.” Eric rejoiced. His voice seemed to be even fuller of pride than usual. Must be because even Kyle agreed with him. “Just admit it already, you have exchanged pussies for Butters’ sample-sized peepee.”

“Fuck off, fatass, fuck off real good.” Kenny huffed with annoyance and crossed his arms, burying his face up to the nose in his high-collared sweater. 

I let out a giggle I hoped didn’t feel as fake to them as it felt to me and I stepped aside, taking a seat in one of the chairs that was in the room, rummaging through my pockets. Finally I took out my mobile phone and I checked it, absently, not to raise suspicions. No sign of my inhaler. I had probably left it in my coat, that should now be upon my suitcase in a room that was too far from here to just excuse myself for five seconds to go to the bathroom. Oh, geez, oh, geez… I quickly took the handkerchief that I always have in my pocket and I coughed a couple of times. I swallowed and breathed deep ten times, as I was told to do, and at number eleven or twelve I began to feel that I regained control over my breathing. Then, feeling a bit calmer, I subtly checked the handkerchief. It relaxed me a little to see it came relatively clean, excluding the little spots of blue. It was then when I realized that Stan was staring at me, serious, with his bottle stuck to his lips. I put on a nervous smile and hid the handkerchief, shrugging.

“It’s the season of catching stupid colds!” 

“Yeah, sure.” he simply muttered, not believing a word I said. He turned to Kenny. “Hey, didn’t I tell you to bring the booze? Like, man, I’m so thankful for the J&B but Butters looks like he needs a drink too.”

“Oh, yeah, sure. I left the rest by the door, I’ll go bring it in here.” He came back in a moment with a plastic box full of different types of bottles. “There you have it! Serve yourself at bar McCormick! There’s rum, vodka, a couple of _Coca-Cola_ cans for the pussies and beers and canned cat piss. There was also whiskey, but our dearest fiancé is already chugging it. I will go on and say _that_ was my wedding present…”

“Oh, how thoughtful of you, making a wedding gift despite being poor as a rat…” Eric commented mockingly, taking one of the _Coca-Cola_ cans.

“Really intelligent of you to bring bottles but not glasses, huh?” Kyle pointed out, arms crossed.

“Then just drink straight from the bottle as Stan does.” Kenny dryly replied, before bringing the box to my height. “Come on, Butters, take whatever you want.” 

“Eh…” I hesitantly looked at all the options, disheartened. “I don’t know, I just don’t like the taste of alcohol much…”

“You are not supposed to like it.” Kenny tilted his head, looking puzzled. Ugh, it was adorable: he looked like a puppy confused by some sound. “Anyway, you can start with a not very loaded Rum and Coke, that barely tastes like alcohol.”

“Sure thing. And in which glass do you intent to mix it in then, genius?” Kyle pointed out once more.

“Ah, don’t mind me, I’ll…” I took one of beer cans “I’ll take one of these.”

“Ehhhh, nope, not that shit.” He moved the box away before I could even reach for it, then added in a whisper. “When I said cat piss, I meant it. Those are reserved for Cartman. And, well, perhaps also for my future super-wasted self…”

“Oh, I get it” I looked back at him a little worried. I pointed at a small bottle and raised my eyebrow. He nodded and so I took it. “Thanks, Ken.”

“No prob. Oh, and get another one for me, please. I like to start with the basics. I wasn’t granted with a liver like the one our dearest Stan has.”

I took another one with my free hand and he put the box up on the table. Kyle came close and looked at it all with a dull expression, Kenny took one of the “cat piss” cans and threw it in his direction for Kyle to catch, wearing a smirk that was as typical of him as his own name. Then he approached me again and took out a bottle opener from the back pocket of his jeans. I handed him his bottle and he held it by the neck to open it.

“Hey, Leo.” He muttered, not looking at me. “If you want to, we can go later for a walk or something and get up-to-date with our lives.”

“I don’t have an interesting enough life for you to need an update of.” I told him, watching his hands catch the cap skillfully.

“Lucky you.” He assured with a mix of bitterness and pure sarcasm. I handed him the other bottle and I could see how his fingers brushed against mine just to be suddenly moved away to hold the bottle somewhere else to open it, avoiding any direct contact. I took mine between my two hands and played with the label, trying not to brood too much over that gesture and its meaning. It totally took me by surprise when he ruffled my hair with his hand, smiling calmly at me. “I’ll see you later, then.” 

I smiled back a tiny bit before he headed to the bed and laid down without any second thought. I began to doubt if I really wanted to be all alone with him. And I didn’t know if it was because of me, him or the rest. I only knew that I wanted my better friend back so badly and at the same time I was scared to even get close to him because I felt things I shouldn’t, and my body asked for things that it couldn’t have. And my best friend… Well, he was too ditsy to realize what was really going on, but still avoided to get too close to me so not to lead anyone to believe things that were not true.

And I get him, I really do: I understand he is also doing this for me, so I won’t uncomfortable. But how can something so idiotic hurt this much? How can it make me turn into something so small, insignificant and dispensable? 

Why do I insist so much on getting something that I will never be able to have?

Why must life be so cruel to give me what I want the most, but at the same time keep it just where my fingertips cannot even graze it?

I know I have no right to complain. I have way more than I deserve, I have the best friend anyone could ever have. But I am so, so, so selfish that… 

I tore off the label from the bottle.

... it is not enough. Part of Kenny is just not enough for me.

I made a little ball with the label and I squashed it as much as I could, sinking my nails into my skin.

And I hate myself so much for thinking so.

I took a deep breath and I sipped from bottle. I made a disgusted face immediately: the beer was too bitter and strong for my taste, but supposedly the flavor was not the important part. The point was to get tipsy enough to forget about it all just a little. And I hoped sincerely that my little tolerance to alcohol would help the tipsiness arrive as quickly as possible, because I was starting to breathe uneasily again. Perhaps I should have begun just like Stan did, straight from the bottle.

I had a lot to learn from Stan, in general.

“Well, weren’t you about to plug in the _Play Station_ , Cartman?” The aforementioned asked, playing with the bottle between his hands. “Now that we are all here it’d kick ass to play together.”

“Yeah, fatso, you don’t get out of doing what you said you were going to by diverting our attention.” Kyle kicked him in the back, sipping from his can.

“Hey! Manners!” Cartman caressed the place where he got hit and grunted something barely audible as he connected the cables to the TV.

“Wooo-hooo, _Play Time_!” Kenny joked, crossing his legs “I wanna play _Soul Calibur_!”

“No _Soul Calibur_ , we’ve decided before that first would be _Call of Duty_.”

“Well, you decided that _without me.”_ He pointed out himself with a hand to the chest, and then at me too. “And without Butters, no doubt, because I’m sure he would agree with me.”

“Huh, I sincerely don’t mind, I don’t really feel like playing actually” I replied with apathy, not looking at him.

“But you would surely feel like it if you played with me!”

“Kenny, I said we are going to play _Call of Duty_ and _Call of Duty_ is what we are going to play. It is _my_ fucking wedding so _I_ get to decide.”

“Also, you only want to play _Soul Calibur_ to see Ivy’s boobage.” Huffed Kyle, and so did I.

“Well, _maybe_ it’s because of that or _maybe_ it’s because I actually consider it to be a heckin’ good multiplayer game.” He shrugged and, honestly, he was such a bad liar sometimes. “But okay, the fiancé decides, that I respect. But I still think it would be more fun.”

“Shut up already, you poor rat, and pass me the controllers that are in the bag.” Eric blurted out, pointing at the place where he took the console from. “If you wanna have a wank with Ivy you do that later, for now we’re gonna kill Nazi zombies.” 

“Okay, okay, I got it.” He raised his hands in defeat before lying down on his side and sending a hand where the bag was “I am taking the contr- AUCH!” 

Instinctively, I jumped off the chair and I called his name. I was about to approach him but he raised his hand, which was bleeding a bit, and put a reassuring smile on his lips.

“No prob, Butters, it is nothing, I just nicked myself.” He put the finger in his mouth, looking back at the place near the bag. “Why the hell is there broken glass in here?”

“That idiot Cartman broke my family photo. Thanks again, asshole.”

“Stan, accidents happen, get over it!”

“And nobody had the great idea to at least clean off the shards in here? ‘S fucking dangerous, man” he said, watching them with somewhat lost eyes, as if thinking about something that might have happened.

“H-he is right, I’d better clean that up…” I heard a grunt from Kyle and I felt smaller yet. “You want me to bring you a band-aid also, Kenny?”

“Ah, yeah, it’d be appreciated.”

I headed towards the broom closet to get a broom and a dustpan and opened the first-aid kit to take a band-aid before going back to the room with everything. Between the four of them they had more or less put away the surrounding stuff to help with the task, so I went to that corner and I swept the broken glass, feeling Kyle’s incriminatory glance at my neck. Then I sat on the bed and I grabbed the band-aid again. 

“Hm, was this the photo?” Kenny tilted his head, taking the photograph that was on the nightstand with his free hand while he let to me put the band-aid over his wounded finger. “Thanks, Leo.”

“Yeah, it must be that one” I replied, biting back the urge to take his hand between mine and kiss his little wound. “and it was nothing.” 

“Ah, uhm, Stan?” Kenny arched his eyebrow, looking at the image intensely. “Who is the girl on your left?”

“Huh? Don’t know, can’t remember. Shelly, I suppose?”

“Wait, wait, wait. Let’s see if I heard that right. So,” Kenny turned the photo and pointed out with his finger, “ _this_ is Shelly.”

“Yes? It’s our family photo, I was going to…”

“You’re telling me that this bombshell here is Shelly. Your sister Shelly.”

“Yes, that’s my sis-…. Wait, what?”

“The same Shelly with the grouchy face and braces smile that used to give us hell when we were kids? _That_ Shelly?”

“What other Shelly can it be?!” 

“Jesus fuck, Stan, when were you planning to tell me that your sister is smockin’ hot now?”

“What the fucking hell…?”

“Stan! I thought we were friends! How could you betray me like this?!”

“Are you stoned or something, Kenny? Bring me that” Stan took the photo out of his hand with a smack and looked at it with a frown “… Look, if you are trying to troll me I’m gonna…”

“What? No!” 

I moved a little to be able to see the photo and judge it with my own eyes, since this time I was not able to discern if it was one of Kenny’s hoaxes or actually… _something_. I could immediately recognize Stan’s parents and Stan himself, with a somewhat false smile, but at the same time a determined look, as if he really wanted the photo to look okay. Hence, the girl at his side had to be Shelly, then. I frowned, not sure whether consciously or unconsciously. I could not deny she had changed a lot during the years I hadn’t seen her. It would be more or less four years since she, as I did, left South Park in pursuit of a (proper) degree. But really, she wasn’t that great. It’s just that she looked… I don’t know… more feminine, I guess? She had a pretty face, but that did not surprise me. Stan is a good-looking guy, that’s for sure, and their mother, Sharon, is one of the prettiest ladies in town. Genetics were benignant in their family, so it did not surprise me to see her and, after having passed a terrible adolescence, to have a hard time recognizing in her barely anything of the girl who, to be honest, I compared to a _troll_ because of how much she frightened me whenever she got upset. But, truth be told…

“I don’t think she’s _that_ hot, actually.” I murmured, shrugging and looking to the other side, still with a frown.

... Perhaps I was being _a little_ biased, to be fair. 

“Butters?” Kenny raised his hands in the air, looking at me with eyes wide open, although not for long because I averted my gaze quickly. “Did you really see the same photo I did?”

“I told ya, she is pretty but she's not that hot.” I got up from the bed, turning my back on him. More than _a little,_ it was _a lot_. 

“Seriously, Kenny, this is not fucking funny…”

“It’s not funny ‘cause it’s _not_ a joke.” He swiped the photo back and crossed the bed on his knees to be able to put it in front of Eric and Kyle, who were already adjusting the game. “Shelly Marsh, rate from 0 to 10!”

Kyle looked at the photo first with a clear lack of interest, but then he raised his eyebrows as much as he could, turning around to look at his best friend.

“ _That’s_ Shelly?” 

“... Yeah?” Stan backed down, on the defensive before Cartman’s whistle startled him.

“Jesus fuck! What a pair of titties! Stan, damn, we should be informed about shit like this!”

“Cartman, jeez, don’t be distasteful!” Kyle smacked the back of his neck… yet he seemed to go back to the photo to see _that part in particular_ with a bit more interest. 

“Riiiight?” You two _do_ understand me!” What a nice remark, Ken, that didn’t hurt at all. “She had to be daughter of Sharon, with boobs like that…”

“Dudes?! That’s my sister you’re talking about, you baboons!”

“A sister I’m gonna baaaaaaaang~!”

I definitely flew off the handle there. I felt a stabbing pain in my very heart and I stood still for a second, looking at the floor, before I turned around abruptly and said hastily:

“Aren’t you supposed to be with Tammy?!”

“Huh?” Kenny looked at me, confused, surely because of my tone of voice, and then shook his head, trying to downplay the issue. “Nah, we broke up a couple of weeks ago. I’m a bachelor… No, actually I am _the_ most wanted bachelor of this wedding!”

I pressed my lips tightly together, looking at him as he quarreled with Kyle over which of them deserved the title or something like that. I could bear with the thought of Kenny having a girlfriend, even more so if she was someone I knew, and I could know the kind of relationship she had with him. I could bear with the thoughts running through my head whenever I saw them happy, hands held together, exchanging lovey glances and smiles. Maybe even think that, deep down, I knew they made a perfect fit.

But not this. This was somewhat worse.

Because knowing that he was going to lose control and forget even his own name just to get an easy screw, that he was going to drink as if tomorrow never came while trying to make out with every single girl that was willing and the simple fact that each and every single one of them had a chance I was not even able to dream of made me… made me… 

I sunk my nails into my forearm.

I sunk my nails in while I watched him brag in front of a grumpy Stan about how he was going to screw his sister. Graphically. Even with gestures. How he was going to grope her boobs. How he was going to throw her in bed and eat her out. How he was going to make her kneel so she would suck him. How he was going to then make her get on all her fours to fuck her savagely from behind. 

And how stupid I was, because my knees got weak, my mouth dry and my eyes wet.

Because I had more than enough imagination to put myself in _that_ position and see him doing that.

I wanted to be Shelly. I wanted to be any of the other girls he would make out with. I wanted to have boobs and a vagina and a pretty body so he would look at me and feel the fire inside his loins just like I do. I wanted to come into his room at night and make love to him, soft and wild. Have him whisper my name and have me scream his. I wanted to wake up and see him once again as a friend, I wanted to tell him I didn’t want to see him anymore, I wanted to get angry with him, I wanted him to hate me, I wanted to take this foolish obsession out of my head, I wanted to leave this place and go back to my bed, I wanted to disappear completely. Anything but keep on like this. Anything would be better ‘cause I didn’t know just how long I could keep up with this, it was killing me.

It was killing me.

Actually killing me. 

Suddenly, I got reminded of Stan and I took the beer bottle and I drank and drank until I emptied it in one fell swoop. Alcohol helped, right? If I was not fully aware of what was happening around me, I would surely forget about everything. 

God, please, make it help, I’m feeling it.

I was teetering pathetically not much later. I didn’t know who it that called me, worried. I held onto the table, my gaze lifeless and blurred, and I nodded at a question I didn’t even hear. My body started to shiver and I felt a cold sweat just before I started feeling my guts spasm. I first concentrated on recovering my speech, just that, as my body went crazy. I felt a hand on my shoulder I hoped wasn’t his and I thrust it aside without any thought.

“I’m fine.” I shamelessly lied with a tone of voice that, for once, didn’t betray me. “I’m going to the bathroom; I’ll be back in a minute.”

I moved as diligently as I could, crossing the room to the door, closing it after me, and then through the corridor. One, two, three, four, you can do it, Butters, you can do this, you cannot raise any suspicions or… The first retching came and I had to run for my life. I was running in such desperation that, when I arrived at the bathroom, I almost smashed into the door. But, no matter how much I tried, it wouldn’t open. A tear fell down my eye with the next retching and I moved away from the door to keep on running. A third retching attack made me throw both my hands to my mouth, trying to control myself.

Please, please, not here, please.

I abruptly entered the next bathroom I encountered on my way and, not even bothering to look, I slammed open the door of the last stall and threw myself painfully on my knees, violently throwing up in the toilet. One, two, three times. I breathed for a while and then felt the need to empty my whole stomach once again.

I wasn’t even aware that someone had come into the bathroom until I heard the sound of heels tapping against the floor tiles coming dangerously close. Scared, I turned around to close the door and lock the latch, but it was too late to make it look as though nothing had happened.

“Huh? Hey! Who’s there?” I immediately recognized the voice, but I kept quiet, trying to go unnoticed “Oi, girl, don’t play dumb on me, I just heard you slam the door shut!”

I tried to stay still, but I felt another terrible retch that made me throw up in the toilet once again, resulting in a disgusted scream from the other side of the door. Now it was clearly too late. I swallowed my saliva, thick, bitter, metallic and revolting and I breathed in, before I dared to reply.

“O-oh, geez… Hello there, Bebe…”

“Wait… Butters?” The girl with the blonde, curly hair asked, completely lost about the situation.

“That’s me~!” I crooned, almost ironically, with a weak voice and my spirits on the floor.

“BUTTERS!” She shrieked from the deepest parts of her lungs, making me jump. “WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU DOING HERE?!”

“I-I-I am s-so sorry, Bebe! It was an emergency, I swear!”

“If I find out this is a prank from the boys I swear you’ll have your ass kicked! Kicked real good, Butters!!”

“No, no, Bebe, that’s not it, not at all…”

And, suddenly, more steps and more familiar voices.

“Bebe, what the hell is going on? We could hear you from the corridor.”

“Yeah, are you alright? I got worried…”

“It’s Butters! He’s here! Locked in the girl’s bathroom! PUKING!”

A disgusted collective moan was heard and I started to consider the option of throwing myself head first straight into the toilet and flushing, to see if I could end up somewhere, _anywhere_ else. I pulled out some toilet paper and used it to clean my face as much as I could before I threw it in the bowl and pressed the button, not even looking at what came from inside me. The less I know, the better. As the three girls were making a scene, I got up clumsily from the floor, cleaned my knees, and scrubbed my eyes with my sleeve a couple times to make sure there was no trace of tears. I scrubbed my mouth with my hand too to rub off any stain that may have been left there. And then I opened the door, raising my hands up, in a gesture of non-resistance.

“Girls, listen…”

“You are a pig, Butters!”

“It’s just been a terrible misunderstanding, okay? I swear!” I tried to defend myself, feeling their glares stabbing me. “I didn’t even know this was the girls bathroom!”

“Yeah, sure, and I also look like the kind of dumbshit who would fall for that, right?” Red replied with a grunt, piercing me with her icy eyes.

“I don’t believe what you said either!” Bebe followed, hands on her hips and a pout on her lips.

“Look, I tried to go to the other one, but the door was locked and…”

“But Butters,” now it was Nichole who replied, looking at me with a much less stern look in her eyes, yet still way more serious than usual, “you cannot storm into the girl’s bathroom just because, it is really uncomfortable for us.”

“I am truly sorry Nichole, but…” I sighed and looked away. “It was an emergency.”

Nichole looked at me almost concerned and I only shrugged. Bebe clicked her tongue and huffed.

“Look, I mean, I am glad you hadn’t puked in the middle of the corridor, okay? But, honestly, if you are going to get drunk you gotta do it properly, ‘cause this is not cool.”

“Huh?” I raised my eyebrow, confused.

“If you cannot tolerate alcohol properly, well, you gotta cut down on it.”

“Or just cut it out completely.” Added Red with a biting smile.

“Yeah, that. Whatever. Just don’t puke in the girl’s bathroom ‘cause, honestly, it’s super _gross…_ ”

I looked at her perplexed, but then everything started to fit together in my head, like puzzle pieces. I opened my mouth, surprised, before I closed it again all of a sudden, nodding fervently.

“Yeah, yeah, sure. Everything makes sense now. It must have been that. I mean, I drank too fast and it went to my head and, yeah, sure. Hadn’t thought about that, Bebe, thanks.”

“Ah, ehm…” she looked at me, confused “Thanks? I guess…”

“I’m sorry for making you… _you all_ worry” I corrected myself, looking at the three. “But everything’s fine now, I’ll just keep myself away from alcohol and that’s all! And now, if you’ll excuse me…”

I passed through them without much thought, trying to maintain my relaxed stance on my way back to the room. Not _that_ one, mine, of course, where I was going to lay down in the bed and turn myself into a blanket burrito, pretending to be indisposed until lunch at least, phone properly off after sending a text to the group chat to avoid unnecessary problems. Sure enough, but not until I grabbed my damn inhaler first and made sure that I will never leave it behind anymore.

Yes, it was a perfect plan that…

“Guys, the margaritas are ready, are you goi-?” Her gaze collided with mine. “Butters?”

“Hey, Wendy…” I licked my dry lips and looked at her from head to toe, before adding in a whisper. “Pre-pretty dress…”

The fiancée narrowed her dark eyes, judging me, before she turned her gaze to the three girls.

“Thanks” She said, without much enthusiasm, but rather a lot of suspicion in her voice “Did I… miss something here?”

“Nothing, Wendy. The idiot Butters drank too much and got pretty plastered and went to our bathroom to vomit everything from his first baby food.” Red summed up marvelously.

“It looks like he was in a bit of a rush and pretty disoriented and that’s why he ended up in our bathroom, it was not ill-intended at all.” Nichole added to the testimony.

“Se-see, I am a disaster, geez…” I let out a laugh that was as nervous as it was fake.

“Yeah, yeah, now we are all laughing but, Wen, girl, I got hella scared, okay?” Bebe huffed. “Like, try to imagine this. I go to the bathroom to pee and when I come out I hear someone throwing up and coughing and almost choking. I thought he was going to die when I heard him, I swear. I was so, so close to calling an ambulance, you know?”

“But I was okay! I _am_ okay!” I said defensively, trying to downplay the situation as much as I could. “I mean it, there’s no need to worry…”

Wendy was looking at me with a piercing look I was trying to avoid as much as I could. Apparently, she was not convinced at all with the _official_ testimony provided.

But she simply closed her eyes, let out a deep sigh and shrugged.

“Honestly, you can’t be left alone.” She mentioned with a happy voice, looking at us four with a little smile. “Come on, get back to the room, we are going to start the margarita party now that all of us are here. Annie is serving right now so run before your ice cubes start melting. I’ll go in a minute.”

The girls went out of the bathroom chanting “Margaritas!” and I tried to go after them, but Wendy cleared her throat when I was passing right beside her and I had to stop on in my tracks. 

“You don’t have anything to tell me, Butters?”

“Ah, well, I…” I looked at the ceiling, trying to find any kind of cheap excuse. “You know, I am not feeling very well so I should better go back and…”

“You can do that once you tell me what happened here.” 

“You heard it already: I drank too much, the alcohol didn’t go down well, I ended up here by mistake… There’s nothing else, Wendy.”

“Oh, yeah, for sure.” The black haired girl came close to me, intimidating me with her height and her glance, as calm as it was piercing, inquisitively “There is _absolutely nothing_ else, right?”

I gulped and looked away. She said nothing, just passed her hand over my sweater, taking something from it. The moment I saw what was between her fingers, my stomach sank and I couldn’t do anything but look back at her again, this time with pure terror in my eyes.

“We-Wendy, believe me, it’s not…”

“Butters, do you really think you’re the first one that has done this, that he didn’t do this dozens of times before you did?”

“But…” 

“I’ll give you credit for something: you have kept it hidden very well, infinitely better than Stan did.” She said, slowly but firmly, her eyes still piercing mine. “But everything has its limits, and, definitely, you cannot fool me. Not with this.”

I closed my eyes shut, my lips trembling and my eyes getting wet after hearing those words. I breathed out, not knowing what to say or do, not wanting to admit what was going on, that Wendy had realized what was happening, that I couldn’t keep up the lie. She took my fist in one of her hands and opened it delicately, placing what she was holding in my palm. Almost afraid, I opened my eyes to see it.

A small blue petal, spotted with blood.

Something so small, a symbol of something so big.

Something so beautiful, a symptom of something so terrible.

I rose up my tearful blue eyes to meet hers.

“Butters… How long have you been hiding from everyone that you are suffering from _hanahaki_?”


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a reencounter with Kenny that didn't go exactly well and a misfortunate meeting with the girls in the bathroom, Butters is now sharing margaritas with them in the fiancée's room.  
> Wendy already knows his best kept secret.
> 
> Maybe it's time to muster up the courage, tell the truth to everybody else and reveal the secrets he had kept accumulating in his chest.

The movement and sound of the ice cubes circling around in the tall glass I was spinning gently with my wrist had me engrossed. Well, the mix of their pleasant drumming against the crystal, the effect the inhaler left behind, the desire to disappear completely from the face of Earth, the complete mental derangement I felt towards the conversation happening all around me, and that pretty sparkle that the gentle sunlight leaking through the curtains gave to the surface of my half-melted ice cubes had me engrossed. Everything beyond the glass in my hand seemed cloudy, as if not completely real; my eyes were blurry, the voices too distant, and my memories hazy. But those ice cubes, spinning round and round and round, floating over the lime green liquid, seemed both fascinating and real.

I felt something hit my ribs and I burst my eyes wide open, once again focusing on what was surrounding me - the high-pitched laughter and the high-spirited conversations invading my head all of a sudden. 

“… and I go check, and I see a text from him.”

“No way, girl!”

“I swear! I’m shook, you know, shook!”

I turned my head to the right, where the hit that brought me back to reality came from, and I stumbled upon Wendy’s piercing dark eyes. She did not say a word, but snorted and clicked her tongue, upset. I pressed my lips tightly together and sunk a bit more in my seat, embarrassed. Looking at her out of the corner of my eye, I could see how she lightened her expression and pinched my cheek, a sweet smile on her lips now, before giving her opinion on the conversation I had completely lost track of way too long ago.

“I’m definitely not surprised by him doing something like that, considering his precedents.”

“Well, it’s not like it came as a total surprise, but…” Bebe gesticulated wildly with her hands.

“But he’s still an idiot with way too many high hopes” Red finished the line for her.

“Yeah, yeah!” Annie butted in, who seemed very entertained by the situation (leading me to think that maybe it was because alcohol went to her head quicker than to everyone else’s). “What are you going to do then, Bebe?”

“I don’t know, y’all” She placed a finger upon her perfectly painted red lips and crossed her legs. “On the one hand…”

“You want to go back to him,” This time it was Nichole who spoke up, finishing Bebe’s

sentence with an almost hopeful voice.

The blonde girl in question embarrassedly covered her face with her hand and a series of screams and surprised remarks rose across the room.

“Come on, no way!”

“But girl!”

“You can’t deny it~”

“Oh, please, don’t be like that!” Bebe said, her face red from something more than just the alcohol, “I hadn’t even said so!”

“Well, then?” Teased Wendy, who I didn’t even have to look at to know was wearing a smirk on her lips.

“Then this means I am _thinking_ about it.” She put her hands down all of a sudden, almost spilling her drink. “Nothing’s sure yet, Nichole, Wendy.”

“Oh, come on, you make such a lovely couple!” Nichole insisted, pressing her glass against her chest with shiny eyes.

“Nichole, honestly, you are sickeningly sweet” Grunted Red, who then took a long gulp of her drink. You could tell she was not particularly one for the argument previously presented. It was either that or, well, the fact that Red always looked like she was in disagreement with something. You know, with that deadpan grimace she almost always wore.

“I am not sickeningly sweet, it’s just that they’re like Wendy and Stan! Inseparable!”

“Don’t say that too loud…”

“Don’t be a doomsayer, Red!” the girl replied, at the verge of tears. Alcohol seemed to affect her by…well, making her _a wee bit too_ susceptible and emotional.

“Oh, come on, you think after I’ve spent such an absurd amount of money on that dress that I am going to back out now?” Wendy laughed out loud and I stared at her for a second. 

It was interesting to see how different Stan and Wendy’s reactions had been towards the possibility of the wedding not happening. Even if both had mentioned how costly their clothes had been, the first didn’t even want to think about it and easily panicked. And she, well… simply found the idea hilarious. Knowing the both of them as well as I did, I knew that it was Wendy that had Stan eating from the palm of her hand in almost every sense, mainly because of how negative and alarmist he was.

Sometimes, when you saw Stan looking at her, eyes sparkling with admiration and absolute love, talking about her as someone talks of their idol, going back to her one and a thousand times as a dog to its owner, refusing to give her up for lost even after having vomited everything he could in a puddle reddened not only by burgundy-colored petals, you would ask yourself if it was worth it. If you could consider something that made him so little and vulnerable, something that had hurt him so much, something that had made him sick and almost killed him, to be love.

I looked at Wendy, her smile making the dimples in her cheeks stand out and her eyes giving off such a characteristic and calming sweetness. I looked down at her hand and I saw that simple yet shiny engagement ring resting over the pure-white fabric of her wedding dress. I widened my smile a bit more, a warmth now settled in my chest.

My favorite stories had always been the ones that had happy endings.

When I looked back at the group of girls I had ended up in, the conversation seemed to flow once more around Bebe and her ex-boyfriend Clyde. They had been a couple for a fairly long time, but they eventually broke up after a fight or two. They got back together again not too long ago, then broke up again barely two months ago. Now, apparently, he wanted to conquer the blonde’s heart again. She seemed delighted, somehow, in Clyde wanting her back so badly. However…

“Don’t be stupid, Bebe! Make the most of life now thatyou’re single!”

As Annie perfectly presented, Bebe was a bit reluctant to abandon singleness. In high school she was one of the most beautiful and popular girls (and she knew, she knew oh so well) which led to her constantly dating boy after boy, be it for a couple months or a couple year – she was barely ever alone. Since the breakup with Clyde, she decided not to have long relationships for a while and, well, she got accustomed to that. To devoting herself to her own wellbeing in between fleeting flings. She didn’t bite her tongue a little bit when she clearly stated that, once Wendy said her “I do” at the altar, her goal would be to get into bed with every cute boy she could. 

You don’t know how much I envy you and your guts, Bebe.

And your body.

I pinched my forearm and forced myself to take a big gulp of my margarita. When I felt the punch of the tequila, I wrinkled my forehead and nose. Once the burning sensation on my throat calmed down, I exhaled air from the deepest part of my lungs. Wendy forbade me from having any of those kinds of thoughts.

After she harshly reprimanded me for hiding my illness from everybody (particularly from her), she forced me to go back with her to the girls’ room. From what she told me then, what I needed was distractions, and going back to my room was not going to do me any good; in fact, being left alone with my thoughts would do the opposite, giving me even more problems in the end. So, almost pulling me by the ears, she brought me here, telling the rest that she had invited me over for margaritas. Thank God, they didn’t ask any further. Also thank God again, Wendy lent me one of Stan’s inhalers she used to always carry in her purse (saying that her fiancé had the bad habit of forgetting to bring them along when he needed them the most, “just like _some others”_ she knew of). I took it like a believer takes a blessing. In no time, I felt once more in control of my own breathing, the petal blob that obstructed my throat dissipating thanks to the medication. It took a little longer for the nasty taste of vomit in my mouth to go, but to be honest, the margaritas Annie had prepared were so delicious that theys helped to clean that up too. Just adding a little bit of willpower to put away those thought about, well, all of _that_ , I started to feel better thanks to all the girls.

Wendy immediately sought my help to lend a hand with her wedding dress test. The first thing I thought was that Stan would surely approve of it when he saw her walking down the aisle, because it was worthy of being worn by a fairytale princess. The sleeveless bodice ended in a lilac ribbon at the waist, and below that, layers upon layers of tulle, the outer ones white and the inner ones purple, made a puffy A-line skirt. The funny thing (and this caught me completely by surprise because for me it was pure female-oriented engineering) was that, with just a bit of help, the tulle skirt could be detached from the base of the dress, leaving the tight skirt underneath that ended in the last layer of deep-purple tulle -ideal for being able to walk around at the banquet without needing so much space. Wendy seemed to be very happy with how it looked on her and how poofy her skirt was, but at the same time she seemed to be a bit overwhelmed with the laced-up bodice and the high heels, asking over and over again if they were “absolutely necessary”. It was as if she only liked the concept of wearing a princess-like dress, not actually _wearing_ it herself. I let out a giggle and said that they were both more alike to one another than they thought they were, and Wendy looked at me with a raised eyebrow and a gorgeous smile, a slight hint of redness on her cheeks. 

Once we were done with that, the girls started talking about their own things and, well, the moment I lost track of the conversation was the moment I evaded. Listening to the girls talking about their love affairs made me feel a fairly stupid and disgusting envy that made me feel like crap. I ended up distancing myself slowly from their conversation and eventually silencing all their voices in my head, thinking it would be for the better. The bad part was that when I shut them out I started remembering the unrest that brought me here so… yeah.

It was hard. It wasn’t like I could snap my fingers and have all these thoughts out of my head in the blink of an eye. Much less knowing that Kenny must be hella worried, since I basically vanished without saying a word. Wendy took my phone and turned it off, claiming that the world could do without me for a while, and she used hers to briefly inform Stan about the situation. A part of me still wanted to take the phone and tell him the _classical_ excuse of alcohol and girl kidnap; the other, well, knew that Wendy was right indeed and that it could wait. It wasn’t like the latter part won, exactly, rather it was more like knowing that if I dared touch the phone I would get heavily scolded so I just kind of let it be.

I remembered what she told me before about being alone in my room, that I needed distractions or I would start overthinking, so I decided to make an effort to keep up with the chatter, now that I (more or less) could understand where it was going.

“Look: one thing is clear. Bebe still feels something for Clyde, but she doesn’t want to go out with him again before she enjoys her life just a little more.”

“You make it sound like _she’s_ the one about to get married, Annie…”

“Oh, Wendy, sorry but… clearly there are some things you can only indulge yourself in when you are single.”

“But there are also so many things you can only have when you’re with someone, too. And love…”

“Nichole, honestly, you’re giving me diabetes.”

“But Nicky, I still feel super bad about what happened, you know, it feels just like yesterday.”

“You two could talk it out, Bebe, it wasn’t even that bad.”

“Yeah, _he_ was the one who ended up crying.”

“Come on, he cries for absolutely everything.”

“Because he’s so sentimental! You know how many guys are like that? Very few!”

“He’s also a dumbass and there are a shit ton of those.”

“Clyde is a good boy,” I said suddenly, and I could feel how all of them got startled and looked at me in disbelief, clearly not expecting me to talk. I sipped my drink again before I continued, as if nothing happened, “And he adores you, Bebe.”

“Aw… And I know that, Butters,” she sighed and looked at me. “But I need something else in my life right now and he needs to grow up.”

“He needs to grow up, like, _a lot_ ” Annie pointed out, serving herself her third margarita.

“There is nothing wrong with wanting some time for yourself, dear,” Wendy took her hand and caressed it gently. “I’m just here because Stan is a ball of anxiety, but you can have all the time you need. Well, not too-too much - I don’t want to be all wrinkly when I get to wear the bridesmaid dress.”

A common laughter crossed the room and Bebe squeezed Wendy’s hand.

“I may even have to thank Stan’s fidget-ass for giving me the chance to help my best friend with her wedding at the prime of my life,” She posed like a model, lifting her hand along with Wendy’s above her head. “I am the very best version of myself, ready to organize the very best of weddings and seduce the very best of bachelors!”

“Oh yeah! Tremble in fear, girls and boys, ‘cause Bebe Stevens is on the hunt again!” Roared Red, raising her glass up.

“Hip, hip, hooray!” Annie hugged Red from behind, lifting her glass too.

“That along with a toast to the happiness of the newlyweds, Annie!” Nichole giggled and put Annie’s glass at a stable position so that it wouldn’t spill all over the carpet.

“Come on, then, we have to finish this round of margaritas before they water down completely,” Wendy put her glass up too and I did the same. “To Bebe, the most solicited bachelorette in this wedding, so none of her prey may be able to resist to her charms! And, oh, why not, to us girls and to Butters, so that we all have the most amazing and unforgettable weekend ever!”

We clinked our glasses together and I chugged what was left in mine at once, feeling the alcohol going straight up to my head. Red was kind enough to pick the blender up and fill our glasses again, while Bebe opened the minibar and offered ice cubes to those who needed them. Being completely honest, even if I still couldn’t get to liking the taste of alcohol, that cocktail had a flavour that I didn’t find unpleasant. Even if it was just for the fact that they made the glasses look so elegant, with the slice of lime embedded in the sugar-coated brim, I felt like having more. I also took a handful of crackers that were served upon the table before I went back to my seat.

“Hey, Butters,” Nichole called over to me as she put her hand over her glass, signaling that she didn’t want any more (something Red seemed not so pleased about). I had already stuffed my mouth with the crackers, so I only let out a hum, nodding with my head. “What about you? Are you with someone?”

My mouth was left agape after that question, and as soon as I noticed I put my hand up to hide it.

“Uhhhh, I wanna know, I wanna know~” Annie said excitedly, getting a little closer to me. “Who’s the fortunate gal?”

“Or _lad,_ ” Added Red, maliciously.

“Girls…” Wendy started to say, but I quickly interrupted her as soon as I swallowed the crackers.

“No, no, no,” I flatly denied, putting both my hands up. “I am not dating anyone, okay? My life at the campus consists of going to class, studying, going to more classes and studying even more. I cannot afford having a relationship.”

“ _Afford_ having a relationship? That’s so cold and sad, Butters…” Bebe puckered up.

“No, well, I know it sounds bad but,” I shrugged “I’m fine. I don’t mind being alone, it’s no biggie, I am used to it. I mean, it’s not like my life has drastically changed. I’ve never been the relationship type anyway, so…”

“Butters, that’s even _more_ cold and sad!” She puckered up even more dramatically.

“Yes, Bebe is right,” Nichole muttered, with a sad face too. “I don’t understand how you don’t have a special someone, you are such a sweetheart…”

“Because you _had been_ with someone already, right?” Pried Red.

“O-o-of course I had!” I replied, offended by her question. “I dated Charlotte for three whole years! Even if we barely saw each other, it was nice while it lasted… And,” I breathed in, looking away before I added “and not so long ago…”

To be fair, I didn’t want to finish that sentence, but I had created so much expectation among the girls that it almost looked like they were holding their breaths waiting for an answer, so I was kind of forced to keep on, opening up my chest of bad memories.

“And, not so long ago, I met someone at my university and we were together for a while.”

“How vague,” Annie clicked her tongue. “We want details! Why did you come to a girls party if you weren’t prepared to spill all the tea?”

“Annie, don’t push him.” Nichole scolded her softly, but, being honest, even she was looking at me waiting for some more.

“Come on, Butters,” I felt Wendy’s hand gently patting my back. “It would do you good to let it out.”

I looked at the black-haired girl for a second, my lips tightly pressed together, before I took a deep breath and decided to open up to them.

“He was a friend of mine.”

Red whispered “ _I fucking knew it_ ” between her teeth but the rest quickly silenced her with a sound.

“His name was Bradley. We met during the first days at university. We were both equally lost, so we helped each other find the lecture rooms and stuff. Since our majors were kinda similar, we started to meet more and more often to study together and, well,” I looked away, my fingers playing with the brim of my glass, “we started to really get to know each other and spend a lot of time together… One day, suddenly, he kissed me and confessed his feelings to me, and I thought it would be perfect to go out with someone as thoughtful and considerate as Bradley. But…”

I made a pause to wet my lips, remembering what came after that and feeling the bitterness on my tongue. 

“… But?” Bebe broke the silence with a tiny voice.

“Uhm, well…” I thought the whole thing over and over so I could explain everything without giving out any unnecessary information. “Everything was going well at the beginning, we complimented each other perfectly and we were happy just spending time together. But, well, I…” I bit my lip, unconsciously “I realized that, even though I loved him a lot, it didn’t match up to how much he loved me. And he started to notice I was thinking about someone else and started to have anxiety and jealousy attacks. I wanted to love him more than I did, I swear but… I never managed to. I still had another person pinned to my heart that refused to leave and Bradley did not deserve that. So I broke up with him and, well. Supposedly, we are still friends. Even though I know that he can’t see me as just a friend anymore and he’s still holding on to the hope of getting back together…” I shrugged “Who knows, right? Life is full of surprises, they say.” 

My voice was followed by a deadly silence that made me feel aware of everything down to my own toes. I gulped and drank a bit more, feeling my throat dry from saying too much. I couldn’t find the guts to raise my eyes; at least not until, suddenly, I heard a whimper and I saw Nichole whining behind her hands, followed by a long and saddened moan made by Bebe. Well, congratulations, Butters, you managed to screw it all up _once again_ in the short time you had been here for. I put a slightly fake smile on and raised my hands, shaking them with energy.

“But everything’s okay, I mean it! My life at the campus is great, I have really good grades and I made amazing friends! I can’t ask for more!”

You can’t ask for more, right?

Not even for your best friend, the one you couldn’t really stop thinking about -not even when you were dating someone as good as Bradley- to stop seeing you as such and tell you he wants _something more_ than just friendship?

Ha. You are such a pathetic coward, Butters Stotch.

“You deserve way more, Butters,” Wendy said gravely, looking intensely at me even if I wasn’t looking back at her, knowing exactly what she was thinking about. The rest agreed with her, all at once, in various ways. “And you shouldn’t treat yourself so lightly.”

“Wendy is so right about that,” Nichole held my hand between hers and looked straight into my eyes. This time I couldn’t help but look back at her, noticing her pupils were glassy from the tears. “You deserve something better than just that… You deserve to be happy with the person you want to be with, the one you have in your heart.”

I stared at her for a long while after I heard that, feeling like she was making me want to cry, and I stretched my smile just a little, pressing her hands with my fingers.

“Thank you,” I murmured, before I looked at the rest too and smiled “I mean, you all.”

But no, Nichole, my love is the impossible kind. One that, if I don’t I force myself to forget about will else perhaps one day end up killing me from the inside. Romantic, don’t you think?

I felt Wendy’s hand on my back, moving in circles, comforting me without saying a word. It was as if she could hear my thoughts or something. It felt nice, having someone who understood. And in some way, she was right. It felt good to let go of everything I had been keeping from basically everybody. To see that no one judges you; more so, they even sympathize and support you. It was something my doctor had recommended, after all. Not to lock myself up; search emotional support in others; give new people some chances; confess my feelings and see for myself that it was not the end of the world.

Well, doctor, see? I made three out of four things. I deserved a reward.

The soon-to-be-wife quickly changed the topic of conversation, somehow not making it feel like she was diverging the group’s attention from a tricky issue and preventing uncomfortable questions that could worsen the situation by being asked. I decided to space out again for a while, focusing on my beverage.

It was kind of odd for a doctor to recommend drinking alcohol from time to time to help with the recovery. A shame that I still found it to taste terribly disgusting.

* * *

We lost all track of time between banal conversations and the few more margaritas left, and night came in the blink of an eye. It wouldn’t have been much of a problem if the restaurant’s buffet didn’t close at half past ten and we all had drank too much to even think about taking the car to the town to grab some food there, so we helped Wendy out of the dress (the fact that she ended up topless in front of me confirmed once and for all how little they believed in my heterosexuality. Hey, after all I consider myself to be bi, okay?) so we went down the stairs like a (boisterous) breath. As expected, they were closing the kitchen and Annie whined, almost teary-eyed, her stomach roaring ferociously. Thank God, Wendy had excellent people skills that of course she put to practice with the person in charge, who ended up opening the door for us and letting us have the food that was left without any problem.

Even if my stomach, unlike Annie’s, seemed to be at peace, the moment the smell of food flooded my nostrils I noticed just how hungry I actually was, and I eagerly scarfed down my dish. Red couldn’t stop laughing at me, so when I could stop for a second, breathe, and ask her why, she told me that it was normal for novices to have such hunger after drinking a lot. Apparently, the crackers weren’t enough for me. Anyway, it was also because, even when cold, the food this place served tasted like heaven to me. However, a university student like me, that so many times had survived off of Tupperware containers of frozen food and all kinds of pre-made food (or even straight junk food), couldn’t know enough about cuisine to even start to make a critique. Even less if we consider that on my bus trip here I had to do with some vending machine sandwiches that left much to be desired. But, if these were today’s leftovers, I couldn’t even start to think how delicious food at the banquet would be!

Considering we were abusing the hospitality of the restaurant employees, we tried to finish up as soon as possible and left the dining room thanking the service and praising its menu. When we reached the reception hall the girls went back into indiscreet giggle mode, apparently because one of the kitchen helpers was considered to be “fairly good-looking” by Bebe. I, however, opened my mouth to yawn. I felt all the accumulated tiredness at once in my shoulders and an urgent need to go to bed and make up for all the rest I couldn’t have while sleeping on the bus on my way here (the most uncomfortable one I had the _pleasure_ of travelling in for quite a long time).

The problem was that Bebe suddenly caught me by the arm and pulled me in the opposite direction from where my most needed bed was.

“Let’s get going, straggler, we have so much night ahead of us!”

“Wh-What? What do you mean by that?” I asked, a little terrified of the idea.

“You know, the best about a girl day it’s a girl night!” She replied animatedly, with a grin from ear to ear.

“Girl night? But I’m…”

“Oh, come on,” she made a gesture with her hand to play it down “at this point you should already know we don’t care, you’re legal.”

“No, no, it’s not that,” I stopped and pointed back with my thumb. “I’m going back to my room…”

Bebe looked at me, not understanding what I meant, before she let out an upset huff that alerted the rest.

“What? You’re bailing out?”

“He’s bailing out?” Echoed Red, making an overdramatic pose, “How dare he!”

“Butters? How come?” Asked Nichole, surprised.

“Yeah, I am too tired and…” I began to say but Annie interrupted me.

“Come on, dude, we’re going to talk about pretty guys and all that jazz, you wanna be there too.”

“And I thank you for the invitation, I really do.” I put my hand over my chest as I said that.

“Butters,” Said Wendy this time, reprovingly, her arms crossed over her chest, “we talked about this, didn’t we?”

“Yeah, I know, but I am serious this time, I’m so tired I literally feel like I could end up asleep on my feet.” and I wasn’t exaggerating. “Look, the trip here was so many hours long, and on top of that the bus was almost half an hour late. What with one thing and another I forgot about how tired I was, but I can’t take it anymore, I really need to sleep.”

“And are you going to miss the best just for a little sleep?” Annie pouted “A few hours won’t do any harm!”

“I would love to, but I need to rest. Totally mean it. And, think about it, tomorrow it’ll be a rough day, right? Making all the preparations, helping to decorate, the bachelorette party… Better keep all my energy for tomorrow so I don’t end up all zombie.” I finished that sentence raising my arm and flexing it like men usually did to show toned and muscly biceps I clearly lacked.

The girls stared at me with different looks of dissatisfaction or complaint, that went from pouts to puppy eyes, but they said no more. It seemed that had convinced them, and they couldn’t deny that I needed some sleep after I almost smashed my head into the dining table when I tried to put it over my palm. Finally, the most skeptical out of them all let out a long and deep sigh and relaxed her authoritarian pose.

“Fine, fine, you win. But _just_ sleeping, okay? No overthinking allowed.”

“Don’t worry about that, Wen, I don’t even think I have the energy to do that.”

I opened my arms and they came all at once for the group hug that, honestly, did me some good. Red, who was not the biggest fan of hugs, just gently patted my head with a condescending smile on her lips. I stuck my tongue out and smiled back. I stood there, waving as they went to the roomier elevator that was on the right side, and as soon as the doors closed, I pushed the button for the other one on the left. I went in, pressed the correct floor and I hummed a song as it went up. When I got out, I sent my hand to my pocket, taking out the keys to my room and checking for the number once again.

It was then my eyesight caught a glimpse of a well-known silhouette in the corridor. I felt my stomach shrink (it couldn’t do much of that after all the food I had just eaten) and I forced myself think it was just my imagination and that it was not _exactly_ _him_ waiting _exactly_ _there_. But when I reached my door and saw Kenny sitting against it, his face buried in his crossed arms, I realized that of course he was.

I had completely forgotten I still had to deal with this…

“Butters?” He murmured, raising his head and looking at me with tired eyes.

“Hey, Ken,” I muttered with a weak voice. At least he seemed to be talking in a low voice, so as to not to make much noise.

Not with ease, he stood up and faced me. It wasn’t like he was angry exactly, but he had a frown and an unusually harsh facial expression. Making a more serious analysis I would say it was a mixture of concern, upset and exhaustion. And yes, all over his eyes you could read I was to blame.

“Where have you been all this time?”

“Didn’t Stan tell you?” I tried to sound as casual as possible, however I could tell that my voice didn’t exactly match well with how I wanted it to sound, to give off that impression. “I was with Wendy and the girls.”

“And why didn’t you answer the phone? I was hella worried.” He didn’t need to say it. I could see it in every little detail - in his stance that deviated from his usual jovial and carefree expression, in the lack of light in his eyes.

“I’m sorry” I barely uttered with a tiny voice, lowering my head as quickly as I could, ashamed. I looked away and my brain, strangely enough, cooperated with me in spite of the tiredness. “I-It died on me, you know? I was about to go and grab my charger when Wendy saw me in the corridor and invited me to spend time in the room with the girls. I told her to notify you, but, well, she only told Stan about it, it seems…”

There was a brief pause before Kenny let a deep sigh out.

“You could have asked them for a charger…”

“Yeah, you’re right,” I shrugged, unable to find an excuse for that. “I guess I took for granted that Stan would tell you about it.”

“He did,” I raised my eyes a little to see him close his eyes halfway and breathe deep, hiding his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. “I just wanted you to be the one who told me you were okay.”

Ouch.

“I am so sorry.” I couldn’t say anything else because it was pointless. He was right and I knew; but Wendy was also right too. And I was an idiot who did not have enough willpower to face one of them or just do something myself.

Unable to do anything more coherent, thinking of little else than burying myself in my bed and praying to just fall exhausted upon it, I inserted the key into the lock and unlocked the door with a twist of my wrist. I pushed it open and slipped through, averting him. I felt him hold the door open as I went in.

“What’s going on?” He asked, confused.

“I am going to sleep,” I said without much tact as I turned on the lights. “I’ve done absolutely nothing right today. I just want to sleep and forget about everything and for tomorrow to be a brand-new day.”

“What?” He asked, and I noticed how his voice broke slightly at the end. He huffed, gob smacked, and crossed the room in the blink of an eye until he positioned himself in front of me. “Why are you going to sleep? Have you forgotten about what we talked about?”

“Kenny, look, I had been on a bus for six and a half hours and…” I tried to say but he cut me off.

“I know, I know you’re hella tired and you need to rest, but…” He stopped all of a sudden, pressing his lips together tightly and fixing his eyes on mine. I tried to hold his gaze but I couldn’t do it for more than a couple seconds, so I looked down only to find that his fists were trembling. “… But I’m just asking for a little bit of your time.”

“Kenny…” He made me look back into his eyes again and my heart skipped a coupe of beats just by seeing how much sadness I found in them.

“It has been _two whole_ years, Leopold. And I’m just asking for you to be with me for a while. Can I…” He breathed from the deepest part of his lungs before he added, “Can I just have my best friend back for a moment? Because I need him so badly. And I think he needs me too.”

Silence.

Except for the raging beating of my heart.

“Let me get my coat…”

* * *

“And, where are going, exactly?” I dared to ask, zipping up my coat as I watched him head to the main entrance.

“You wanna go somewhere in particular?” He replied with another question, opening the door and shivering when a gust of cold air came in. “Geez, it’s fucking freezing…”

I shook my head. I didn’t even have the time to unpack my suitcase, how could I know what interesting places could be around?

“Then we’ll just go where I first thought of” He murmured simply, almost to himself, walking fast. I found it strange that, instead of going straight, he turned right, where the parking lot was, but I just followed silently.

“Are you going to take the car?” I asked when I saw him taking out keys from his back pocket, adding with a worried voice, “Are you in the condition to do it?”

“Calm down, I just had that one beer.” He reassured, downplaying the issue with a move of his hand.

He headed towards the oh-so-infamous battered jalopy he had for a car and opened the doors using the key, since asking for a remote control would be way too much. As stupid as it may sound, simply seeing that disastrous car again brought a smile to my lips and sitting in the co-pilot seat once more filled me with the sweetest nostalgia. I put my seatbelt on and tilted my head towards him. He was looking back at me with a peaceful smile I wish he always, _always_ wore on those lips because it was the prettiest one he had, but he quickly turned his head away to turn the engine on. It roared with a noise that anyone else would consider “worrisome” and immediately started to move. I looked at every nook and cranny, unable to stop smiling, touching here and there, enjoying the smell of cheap air freshener and the feel of shabby leather and worn-out rubber and almost-rusted handles. It was old, falling to pieces, uncomfortable and way too noisy, but it was still my favourite car of them all and would always be thanks to all those precious moments we lived thanks to it. I rested my head against the not-so-comfortable headrest, just watching Kenny drive for a while. He was paying attention to the road, but, from time to time, he’d take short glances at me, as if he needed reassurance that I was actually there.

“So, well…” I started to say, breaking the ice and trying to get his attention now I had him all to myself “You haven’t told me where are we going yet.”

“Oh, right, I haven’t,” He uttered, genuine surprise in his voice. “When I was on my way to this place I noticed there was a pretty peaceful lake nearby and I thought it would be nice to go there. Seemed pretty.”

How… romantic, Kenny. No homo. But just the two of us going to a lake at night was so romantic of you.

Could you just let me curse all your fucking heterosexuality for a moment?

I wanted to breath in deep, but I immediately felt that my air flow had considerably reduced. I reached my hand into the chest pocket of my coat and this time I took out my own inhaler, taking in a good breath. He looked at me and I thought I could do another, just to prevent any unnecessary problems. I didn’t want to, I don’t know, laugh and end up letting petals out in front of him. He didn’t ask me about it because I had explained away the need for an inhaler years ago, saying I had asthma problems. It was not that different from asthma, after all, and only a very good observer could distinguish the different inhalers by the names of the medications or the colors of the labels. I let out the breath through my nose, putting the cap back on and returning the inhaler back into my pocket as I looked at the landscape through the window, halfheartedly.

“Hey, if you wanna you can put some music on, y’know?” He said casually, as he looked both ways before taking a turn. “You are free to put on whatever you fancy.”

“I don’t know why you say I can put on whatever I want when you’re always complaining about my taste in music.” Still I turned the radio on (which was prehistoric but at least modern enough to have a CD player). After selecting the CD input, I pushed the play button and was surprised when I immediately recognized the song. “Hey, wait… This was _my_ CD!”

“Yeah.” He said simply, shrugging, a smirk on the corners of his mouth he was really trying his best to hide.

“Yeah?” I said back, trying to sound as if I was reproaching him, “That’s all you gotta say?”

“I like variety and I casually put that one on today.” He shrugged again and fought even harder to avoid widening his smile.

“You are a liar, Kenneth McCormick,” I accused him, squinting my eyes, letting out a chuckle. “That was 100% on purpose!”

“Do you really think I could drive all the way from South Park listening to this _sappy_ stuff?” He pointed at the radio with his thumb, which was currently very busy playing a _very romantic and sentimental_ song. “I would have fallen asleep halfway through.”

“It’s an anthem.” I argued, turning the volume up. “Don’t you dare to deny that. Also, it was _your_ idea to make that Vine using this song, like in that movie.”

“It’s called irony: since that song is _terrible_ , using it for the Vine makes it _even more_ terrible, and thus the result is _fucking amazing_. It’s science, you know.”

We kept the stupid argument up for the rest of the road, or at least as much as we could, since most of the time we were inevitably singing the well-known lyrics without giving a crap about how out of tune we were. I felt like a dumb crushing teenage girl, feeling tickles in my stomach as I heard him sing. Although he may not look like it, (even less so now, being purposefully so off pitch) he had an amazing voice because of the singing lessons he took as a kid. He barely ever took it seriously, but I had the honor or hearing him at his best and… Haha, what else could I add to the long-ass list of things that I loved about Kenny? Oh yes, his voice! Who cares about adding one more thing when you have thousands already? 

I even felt a little sad when we left the main road, since I was just so comfortable in that situation, but when Kenny pulled the car over and I got out and I could have a proper look at the scenery, well, I couldn’t say it wasn’t worth it. The lake was relatively small, but still much bigger than the one we had in our hometown. The water laid totally still, so much so that it reflected the deeply blue and starry sky almost perfectly. The night was chilly thanks to the breeze that swayed the canopy with enviable care, the moon shined brightly in the uncontaminated environment, and if there was something more beautiful in this world that this sight it had to be the boy under that messy blond mane.

I saw him get out of the car too, leaving the headlights on. He bent down and, all of sudden, he ran towards the lake, stopping right at the edge and threw something out onto the water.

“What? Oh, come on, don’t fuck me! That was a perfect throw!” He turned his back to the water, clicking his tongue. I walked over to him, warming up my arms with my hands.

“How many times?”

“Just two! Can you believe it? I’m sure it was because the stone I chose was a bad one.”

He headed towards his car again and he climbed up onto the hood with a jump. After taking a seat, he patted the place to his right, inviting me to sit there. I don’t have legs as long as his, so I had to get on the tire first and, from there, hold onto the hood. He offered his hand to help me up and, when I finally got up there, I could sit by his side, my back against the windshield. We sat in silence for a while, merely looking up at the sky.

“Well then,” He uttered in a sort of casual way, “Who should start?”

I turned my head to him.

“You should do it,” I murmured, postponing the unavoidable.

“Really?” He raised an eyebrow, letting out an ironic cackle, “Are you sure you want to hear me complain about my shitty life first?”

“I’m pretty sure, Ken” I reassured.

“Okay, fine then,” He breathed in and stared off into space. “I don’t even know where to start, actually. Since you left everything has gone from bad to worse…”

“Is it that bad?” I felt kind of guilty after hearing that.

“You know what’s the best part about having two jobs? I barely have to step foot into my house,” He replied. I looked down at my intertwined hands, pressing my fingers onto my knuckles. “Because the more I do the more I regret choosing to stay and not having left with you that day.”

I looked at him, despite him still looking further away. We had always thought our only option left was to run away from our homes, from our town. It was ironic that Kenny spent years and years working his ass off trying to restore this car, which used to be nothing more than a pile of useless garbage, with the intention of packing our bags with only the essentials and running off when they least expected it. But that sort of stuff had always been easier to plan on a day where we felt like we couldn’t take it anymore than to actually do it, so time flew by us and we never plucked up the courage to actually carry it through.

Not until I received the acceptance letter from my University.

I had the perfect excuse, no, the perfect _reason_ to leave that place and free myself from having to come back home, to come back to my father. I told Kenny about it and I remember his eyes lighting up like fire. We wouldn’t stop texting as we packed up everything we needed, arguing about what we considered essential and what we could leave behind.

When I got out of my house, ready to live that new adventure ahead with my best friend beside me, I found him at my front door, hands on his pockets and with no baggage in sight. I had already guessed his answer by reading his gaze, but he still insisted on telling me in person that he couldn’t go. That he had to stay. That they needed him at home. That Karen needed him. His little sister had always been his Achilles’ heel and I understood. I had to respect his decision. Even if it broke my heart _just a tad_ having to tell him goodbye, feeling how he was shuddering under my arms, breaking into tears between a thousand apologies and promises I’m not even sure he ended up keeping. And it was stupid how, despite having him right in my arms, I could already feel the emptiness that his absence was about to leave in my chest. An emptiness my body had filled up with a myriad of petals that suffocated me if I thought too much about him and how much I loved him.

And it hurt me so much to hear now that he regretted not having come with me. Because that day I could only think about begging him to stay with me and telling him that I also needed him badly.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” was as much I could manage to say.

“It doesn’t matter, it’s too late for that anyway,” He shrugged and placed his chin over his crossed arms before he continued. “Karen is growing up. Like, too much. Not so long ago she was my little sister, the one who came to my room to sleep in my bed because she got scared and now, I don’t know, she is already an adolescent. One that spends, like, too much time with Henrietta and her cynical and anarchist ideas. Now she’s always telling me I’m overprotective and that she doesn’t need me anymore because she’s grown up. Girls, who gets them anyway. My mother, well, she’s like always, washing dishes for a living, screaming like she’s hysterical all the time and trying her best to support the house. And Kevin… Kevin’s been in rehab for a while.” He let out a low-spirited sigh. “And I feel bad because I know he’s trying, that he’s fighting in his own way to get out from all this and get better, but I can’t stop feeling… _frustrated_. I can’t stop feeling like he’s evading his own responsibilities and putting them all on me.” 

I was really happy that Kevin finally sought help. Kenny’s older brother had a long history of alcoholism from way too early an age, but it all had gotten worse when he slipped into drugs too, and started to turn the already tense family situation - if that was even possible - even worse. At least he was now aware of his problem and was trying to get better. But there was a certain detail about Kenny’s account that had me deeply worried, one he hadn’t actually mentioned.

“All those responsibilities you talk about,” I started to say, getting the lay of the land, “Why are they _yours_ now?”

“Oh, yeah, sure, that,” I saw his half-smile, painfully ironic, like his voice. He got some fresh air before keeping on. “Stuart left. Well, being totally honest here, _I kicked him_ _out_ of the house.”

I sat in silence before I looked at him, scared, as I began to understand.

“Kenny…”

“I was so fucking tired…” He started to relay, voice drained and a bit broken, “I already had enough shit with all the constant fighting over any trifle and his goddamn incapacity to keep a job. It was enough, letting him have a drug lab at home under the pretext that it would help us make some money, having the police come over to arrest him and having to pay for his bail and ending up even worse than before. There were, like, too many things already. And seeing him that day, so wasted he could barely hold himself up, saying that he got fired _again_ , made me understand that it was worse than what we wanted to believe. My mother started another argument, blaming everything on him, screaming that Kevin hadn’t been home for days straight and he didn’t even seem to care that his son was heading towards the same destructive path he was on. Of course, that asshole had the audacity to hit her and tell her to shut up. I held him back and separated them before things got even worse. I can’t remember anything clearly, but they told me that we fought for a long time. The only thing I remember is Karen crying her eyes out and getting closer to us to tell him that that was enough and…” He became quiet for a second, looking nowhere in particular, lips pressed and gaze lost, surely visualizing that scene in front of his eyes one more time. “That piece of shit dared to raise his hand against her. Against _Karen_. And I couldn’t take it anymore, that was way more than I could take. I literally kicked his ass out of the house. I told him that I no longer considered him my father, that he was nothing to me, that I wouldn’t care if he died and that he couldn’t even think about putting a foot into our house ever again. And he left. Since then I haven’t known a single thing about him. Obviously, he hadn’t bothered to do a single thing for his family besides indebting us and leaving his two sons with the weight of the whole family’s survival. Because, huh, what’s the big deal about that? This is how it’s supposed to be, right? Being twenty and working from dusk to dawn, just to get home and find an empty fridge and your sister crying because she’s hungry and there’s no food left. That all the money your mother earns is dedicated to paying the bills for your alcoholic brother’s rehab, because we need him to be able to hold down a job so he can bring home another income. And I’m… _so_ fucking frustrated because I want to go out there and simply have a normal life but I can’t because my father is a son of a motherfucking bitch who put his addictions ahead of his family and my brother followed his steps and my mother can’t aspire to become something more than a dishwasher at a diner. And all I want at this point is to be able to give Karen the best life I can amongst this hell, but I swear there are days where not even that thought makes me feel anything I’m going through is worth it anymore…”

I threw my hand towards his, squeezing it, not looking anywhere but at his eyes and he came back to reality soon after and looked back at me. He had been holding his arms as he talked and, as his pain intensified, he had started to dig his fingers in, to the point where it became painful for me to watch. So, without much second though, I held his hand so as not to allow him to harm himself any more, neither with his hands nor his words. His eyes started to soften up as I stroked him with my fingers, slowly relaxing and letting go of his forearm. Lacing his fingers in between mine, he softly squeezed them, a little smile rising to his lips accordingly.

“Sorry.” He said nothing else.

I caressed his skin with my thumb.

“I hope you are sorry for having kept it hidden from me for so long,” I replied with a bit of severity, but with way too much tenderness and understanding for it to be barely noticeable.

“I couldn’t, Leo,” He shook his head, without averting his gaze from our intertwined hands. “You were leaving the next day and I knew that, had I told you, you would have stayed like I did. And no, I couldn’t do that to you.”

That it happened precisely _that night_ destroyed me completely. Him crying on my shoulder at our goodbye now had a new and completely different meaning. I bit my lip and looked at the floor, shaking lightly. It was not my fault, it was not even something bad as such, but I felt devastated after hearing that. If he had told me about it, if somehow I could have known about it, I wouldn’t have taken that bus by any means. He was right all along. I would have sent my future down the drain just to stay by his side and keep him company through moments as difficult as those, even at the expense of losing my chance to leave home and all the bad that lived inside it. And I thought it was both so stupid and so laudable that he kept all of that shut in and gave to me, in an almost symbolic gesture, everything he gave up on: studies and the chance to escape from a house we didn’t feel like home in since long ago. I wanted to slap him, throw how much of an idiot he had been in his face and tell him that I couldn’t be happy if he sacrificed himself on my behalf. But how could I do it when he had been so selfless, both to me and to the rest of his family?

I wished… I wished I could kiss him.

At least then he would know how much I love him.

Kenny took me completely by surprise when, not letting my hand go for a moment, he changed his position so he ended up leaning against me. My cheeks burned and my heart started to beat like crazy. Why was he so stupid? How could he not know that-? Oh, no, not that smile, please no…

“But you know what? I feel much better now” he breathed in deep. “It’s true what they say about feeling lighter when you let things out. You should try it.”

“Try it?” I repeated, not understanding what he was trying to say (or more like too enthralled with him to understand).

“Yeah. Telling me about _your_ thing. Because you also have something you haven’t dared to tell me about yet.”

Oops. Red alert. _Very_ red alert.

“I don’t know why you say so, I…”

“I know I am not a genius, but I’m not _that_ dumb either, Butters. You have been acting so very strange today and I think I deserve to know why, don’t I?”

Oh, god, how am I going to do this? I don’t _want_ to tell him, I _can’t_ tell him.

Earth, I never ask anything of you, but eat me whole, please.

“Uhm, eh, well,” I stuttered with extreme clumsiness, trying to find a way to somehow muddle through, “I, uhm, I mean… I don’t know…”

“Okay, okay, fine. Let’s start this little by little,” He made himself comfortable on my chest, unaware of my hectic heartbeats. “Tell me about it. University.”

“We already talked about that through messages,” I chuckled nervously. “The campus is huge, there are tons of people there and exams are tiresome. There’s not much more than that.”

“Everyone has the craziest stories during those years, I can’t believe that’s all you gotta tell me about that,” He grumbled like a little boy. “Come on, there has to be something you haven’t told me about. Any party? Any not-safe-for-work anecdote? Any flirting? There has to be something!”

“Who do you think I am, Kenny?” I raised a rhetorical question, before I made a gesture with my free hand, downplaying what he said, “I am nothing but a boring medical student, my life doesn’t go way beyond the basics. Parties are just not my cuppa tea, my life is mostly routine, and I do not stand out amongst the crowd.”

“What a bore.” He closed his eyes and exhaled all the air out of his lungs loudly through his nose.

“I told ya.” I shrugged, smiling slightly.

He took out his phone from his pocket and searched for something on the internet, absently. I leaned back a little bit, until I could rest my head against the windshield, and breathed in deeply a couple times. At least I got through the worst part and I managed not to speak about it, so I just enjoyed the cold breeze of the night, the starry night sky, the feeling of Kenny’s fingers between mine, and the weight of his head against my chest.

“Well then,” He said suddenly, raising up his phone, “Who’s the guy next to you in all these photos?”

Or that’s what I thought.

“Uhm, eh,” Just hearing that question I could perfectly know who he meant, but I still decided to take a look, just in case, “That’s Bradley… He is a friend.”

“A friend, huh?” Was Kenny’s reply, as he lowered the phone to glance at it again, “You two seem really close.”

“Yes, yes we are. I think we are pretty much alike in many ways, so we work well together.”

“Oh… I get it. Well, I guessed I thought it would take you a bit longer to replace me.”

“What?!” I jumped, making him jump too, letting my hand go, “No! No, no, no! I haven’t replaced you!”

“Wow, Butters, chill, it was just a joke.” He waved his hand in a peaceful gesture.

“Don’t joke about that stuff!” I pressed my lips tightly together and held my own knees against my body, “It’s not funny…”

“Being funny was not my intention but, you’re right, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Apology accepted.” I grumbled.

“I just wanted to, eh… Pull your tongue, I guess?”

“Pull… my tongue” I repeated what he said, trying to make out what he meant by that.

“Yeah. You know. Teasing you a little bit to see if you’ll finally decide to tell me about the things you haven’t dared to until now. Like who he is. Or what makes him so different from the rest of your friends for you to look at him like that.”

Kenny waited for an answer and I couldn’t even find the courage to look back at him, I just fiddled around with my fingers, feeling a lump in my throat. I didn’t want to talk about that, I really didn’t…

“Butters?” He insisted.

“I don’t want to.”

“Why? Is it so bad?”

“No, it’s not bad it’s… It’s something that…” I couldn’t even find a coherent answer, because the only coherent answer would imply saying too much, “It’s something I don’t feel comfortable talking about.”

“Not even with me?” He insisted, particularly on the last word, a note of disappointment in his voice.

“ _Especially_ with you” I pointed out, snorting bitterly.

“Why? Is it you or is it me? ‘Cause I don’t get it.”

“It’s for the good of us both, okay?” I raised both hands up, “Believe me, it’s better this way.”

“No, no I don’t believe that. There has to be something,” He came a little closer to me and I backed up as much as I could. “Did I do something wrong? Did I say something I shouldn’t have?”

“Ken, stop, for real, it’s not about that.” I pushed him by his shoulders, putting him back to his place, fearing I would fall from the car if I evaded him any more.

“Then tell me what this is about, ‘cause I can’t seem to understand it or understand you or anything.”

“Look, it’s something that…” I let out a sigh and tried to quickly think about something that could end this thing up, “It’s something I am afraid may distance us, okay? And that’s the last thing I want on planet Earth so, please, understand…”

“Do you really think there is something so terrible that it might make me want to distance myself from you?” He raised an eyebrow and looked at me, staggered.

“Of course there is, and…”

“Like finding out you’re gay?”

I felt a spark in the nape of my neck that made me shiver from head to toe. I stared at him all wide-eyed and white-mouthed, unable to breathe.

“What?” Was as much as I could manage to say in a whisper.

“Is that what you’re afraid of, Leopold? That I’ll grow apart from you because you like guys? That I’ll stop trusting you as much as I always have? That what happened this morning may happen again?”

All of a sudden, I felt the tears overflowing and rolling down my cheeks. Trying to say something, whatever, I let out a shameful high-pitched whine and I covered my mouth with both of my hands. What was I doing? What was I saying? What was happening? God, don’t fail me now, don’t fail me please, I can’t cough now, I can’t do it in front of him. I swallowed and I could perfectly feel how a gulp of blood and petals went along down my throat.

He, nevertheless, didn’t seem to care much about manners and crossed the distance to hold me close. And he didn’t just hold me in an ordinary way. He held me in a way that made me feel like he was holding me _whole_. He held me the way you hold the most important person, the way you hold that person you meet again after a wait that felt eternal, the way you hold someone who is broken inside, and you need to put all their pieces back together. He held me so strongly and so sweetly that I felt I was going to die right there, with his fingers caressing the nape of my neck and his hair brushing against my cheek.

“You’re a hopeless case, Leo,” He whispered against my shoulder, along with an angelic laughter. “And it doesn’t matter how dumb I may be, I’d never be dumb enough to put you aside because of something like that. Never.”

I didn’t know how long we stayed like that, I just know that I started to cry out everything I had been keeping inside for so long and that he didn’t stop calming me down for a second with his caresses and his words. When, finally, after many hiccups and “I’m fines” I was able to normalize, he took me by the shoulders, looking at me as I wiped away the tears from my eyes with both hands. His calm breathing helped me to soothe mine and he patiently waited for me to be able to say something.

“I am sorry,” I managed to say, going back to wipe some tears that dripped still from my right eye, “For making a scene like this…”

“If you are going to tell me you’re sorry for that and not for having thought poorly of me then you haven’t understood a thing about this,” He said, half-jokingly, half-serious. I let out a soft cackle, broken by a whimper, and he let another out, massaging my shoulders with care. “You feel better now?”

“Yeah, yeah, a bit better,” I nodded, thinking that, actually, part of the heaviness I felt in my chest had been lifted after having shed so many tears.

“I’m glad, then. At least the sobbing was worth it.”

“I hope I don’t-” I took in some air “-have puffy red eyes tomorrow.”

“You can always tell Stan you were crying because you got overemotional with the wedding,” He joked and I hit him softly in the chest when he started to laugh shamelessly.

“That’s by all means a gay stereotype!”

“Not my fault you’re a little bit of a crybaby.” Another hit. “Ouch, okay, okay, I’ll stop.”

“And I’m not gay, I’m bisexual, okay?” I emphasized. I wanted to say that now that it was relevant.

“Oh, so instead of choosing one or the other you want it all, huh? Clever boy.” I arched an eyebrow as high as I could, and he stuck his tongue out, showing that piercing he had in the middle of it for so long. Then he brought a hand up and ruffled my hair before he said: “I’m proud of you.”

“How come, because I can still appreciate boobs?” This time I was the one who joked about it.

“Because I think knowing oneself and admitting to ourselves and to the rest of the world who we are is really important,” He explained himself, leaving me slightly dumbfounded. I had never expected him to say something like that. Not Kenny, among the millions of people that populate the world. He widened his smile a little bit, apparently proud of himself and what he had said too, and put some order into my hair with his hand as he said, “I hope the best for you two. You look like a good match for each other.”

“Eh, well, about that…” I cleared my throat, a bit ashamed of having to say that _now,_ “Bradley and I… we are not together anymore.”

“What?”

“Surprised?” I uttered with a stupid voice, shrugging, trying to make the situation a little less uncomfortable.

“And you dared to tell me you had nothing to say about it.” He squinted his eyes, piercing me with his gaze.

“Well, technically speaking, I didn’t exactly deny it,” I pointed out, moving my index finger. “I just avoided answering by being evasive.”

“Well then, now you are going to leave all that evasiveness behind and you are going to tell me everything.” He put his arms away from me to cross them.

“Uhm, any other day I will, okay? It’s really too long to explain and it’s way too late.” Besides that, opening that chest twice in the same day was too much for me to handle. My thing with Bradley hadn’t been easy to get over.

“Fine, fine. But no evasiveness on that day. I really want to know.”

I nodded and he smiled back before he turned to get off the hood of the car. In that moment I felt a sting in my chest and I sent my hand over my heart, calling his name out loud almost unintentionally. He immediately turned around and looked at me, waiting for me to say something.

“You really…” I bit my lip for a moment before finishing, “You really don’t mind?”

He said nothing, but widened his peaceful smile and nodded.

Suddenly, I had a hunch. A stupid hunch.

“Even if that means I could fall in love with you?”

His smiled started to slowly disappear as his mouth began to open, as if in an attempt to say something that never came to be. He blinked a couple of times, processing what I had just said. I didn’t know why I had asked that. I didn’t know what I would do if he said something now that would send everything down the drain. I couldn’t fathom how I dared to let out so easily something so dumb and dangerous and compromising. He was going to notice, definitely.

Then he let out a guffaw and, in just a second, he put his arm around me, his hand pinching the bridge of my nose and moving my head from side to side.

“Oh, come on, as if you could have such _bad_ taste!” He exclaimed, before letting my nose go and changing his tone of voice all of a sudden. “Oh, wait, I take back what I said…”

“Hey!” I held my nose, knowing exactly where that had come from.

“Come on, let’s go, we’re going back,” He jumped off the hood gracefully and moved towards the door.

“Okay, fine, I’m coming,” I replied, somewhat relieved to know that he had been the one that had evaded the question. Just somewhat. I moved slowly towards the edge and, with a bit of an impulse, I jumped off too. I wiped as much as I could off of my hands and onto the back of my clothes before opening the passenger door and taking a seat.

“Hey,” Kenny caught my attention as he drove backwards with a hand resting over his seat and his body partially twisted so as to see through the car’s back window.

“What is it?” I said as I struggled with the lock of my seatbelt.

“Just out of curiosity,” That’s a bad start, “Did you and that Bradley actually do it?”

I gulped, as red as I could be.

“Why are you asking that now? Are you having your doubts about me still being a virgin or what?”

“No, no,” He finally reached the road and, after some maneuvering with the steering wheel, he righted the car, prepared to drive it. Then he leaned over the wheel and turned to me, his cheeky smile as wide as it could be. “Just wanted to check and see if someone’s already broken my dear friend Butters’ _butt_.”

I did not reply. I just hit him over and over in the arm, saying it was definitely not funny, as he fought a fit of laughter caused by his own terrible joke.

When we finally hit the road, he said sorry over and over again for laughing at my expense, and I lied against the window, huffy and embarrassed in equal amounts. He decided to play my music again as a way of asking for forgiveness.

From that moment onwards, I barely remember anything.

I don’t know what the last thing he said was and I couldn’t listen. I only knew that, between the dark and changing landscape, the roaring of the engine, and the soft sound of the music that brought so many good memories back to me, I was easily lulled to sleep.

And that time, I did not dream about parents screaming at me or ex-boyfriends crying.

I dreamt about Kenny holding my hand as he slept against my chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I enjoyed writing this chapter A LOT, to be honest. I tried to stablish the personality of each and every one of the girls and make them support for Butters. I also loved being able to include Bradley, I just enjoyed his character so much even if he was a one-time-ep character and I pictured him turning into a sensitive and soft and precious boy who would be a perfect match for our dear, innocent blondie. Of course, I loved even more to break that couple because our sweetest idiot is so dumb that he can only fall in love with his heterosexual best friend lol   
> Talking about Kenny... I felt like I was being TOO HEAVY and dramatical with his story, but, idk, uh, watching the series I feel it's not even that much different??? Like almost everything I said could be considered canon... I hate his father's guts, sorry, who the F*CK let's some druglords have a drug lab in the garage having little kids at home :,)  
> ANYWAY the thing is that Kenny's life is a piece of shit and honestly it was important for you to know up to which point it's actually the shittiest:') 
> 
> Oh, and at the cae, the song they were talking about is "A Thousand Miles" by Vanessa Carlton, and the movie is "White Chicks" xDDDD Honestly I cackle every time I picture them reenacting that scene for the Vine, they are such dorks, I love them just so much HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
> 
> Once more this translation exists thanks to @ameange.sp (instagram) who was my beta reader again and she does an amazing job just to make this translation is readable ♥
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter as much as I did and, as always, I hope to find you by the end of this flower road...

**Author's Note:**

> Little disclaimer here: as you may have guessed by now, my mother tongue is NOT English. I have a high level but I had only read Spanish literature and thus my writing is VERY Spanish-like oriented. So sorry if some parts sound weird, confusing, overcomplicated and such. Maybe even the dialogue doesn't sound natural or my jokes are not easily understood (I promise that in the Spanish version they were natural and funny tho). Also, my beta reader did an astounding job with grammar, but we are all human so maybe something may be missing. If you find something odd or want to tell me how could I improve the wording or something like that, feel welcome to but please be considerate with our job. 
> 
> \---------
> 
> I started this fic during a difficult time for me, after not having really written for such a LONG time, not really thinking I would even get to finish it. I wrote mainly for a handful of friends and it was not until I finished it completely, a whole year after, that I decided to upload it on the internet so that anyone could read it too.  
> Today, I take the second step. I translated this into English to be able to maybe reach more people than I did. It was a really arduous job (I just... hate translating ok) but it helped me a lot and well, if anyone reads this and likes it, I'd feel so, so, SO happy. This story is particularly dear to me, not only because it's the first one I properly finished, but also because of the topic and the way I just handled everything. I had been into Hanahaki myself since so long and I had been dying for a chance to include it into one of my stories. Hope I made it justice!
> 
> I want to thank this translation to @ameange.sp (instagram) who was my beta reader and I swear she did such an amazing job... She found even the tiniest mistakes and had SO MUCH PATIENCE with my constant punctuation and in/on misplacement mistakes. Please thank her that this translation is readable, basically lol  
> And thank you, reader, for giving this story a chance, and I hope I may find you at the end of this flower road ♥


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